Between the Pages
by DonJohn23
Summary: AU - Jeff wanders into a bookshop to get out of the rain. He comes out with a new book, a new friend, and a new crush.
1. Chapter One - In Which a Bookshop is Dis

Jeff only steps in to get out of the rain. It's pouring down, the kind of rain that drenches you immediately and yet still somehow still makes you wetter the longer you stay out in it. His blazer's sodden, and Jeff's glad he had the sense to put a hoodie on underneath it or his shirt would be soaked through too. He pushes his hood down, shaking his fringe out of his eyes as he looks around at the shop he's chosen to shelter in. The walls are lined with shelves of books in neatly labelled categories and sub-categories, and there are two tables in the middle of the room laden with books on display. Jeff walks over to look at them, running his fingers over their shiny covers. He notes with approval a few of his favourite books face out on the shelves, and is just stepping over to have a closer look at _Fiction – Horror_ when his bag catches the edge of a pile of books.

They slip with a bang to the floor, making Jeff almost jump out of his skin. Cursing under his breath, he spins round, picking them up quickly and putting them back on the table. He's just trying to arrange them neatly when there's a cough from behind him. Jeff winces, slowly turning around. Behind a counter Jeff hadn't even noticed is a man watching him with an amused smile, hands curled around a steaming mug.

"I was just..." Jeff starts, trailing off and looking down at his feet as the man raises an eyebrow.

"Browsing?" The man finishes with a smile. "Feel free to continue, those books have seen worse than the floor in here." Jeff looks at him curiously, then at the books. "I'll just be back there," He gestures behind him, "If you want me just... ring the bell!" He says, hitting an old porter's bell that sits next to the till.

With that, the man turns and goes through a beaded curtain into what Jeff assumes must be some kind of stockroom, leaving him alone once again. Jeff glances at the door, at the storm still raging outside, and decides to stay, just until the rain stops. He sets his bag down at the base of the counter and makes his way over to the horror section, picking out _Let the Right One In_ and settling himself in the leather sofa that's tucked into the corner of the shop.

The rain outside pounds against the glass in the door of the shop but Jeff barely hears it, losing himself completely in the story spread out on the pages in front of him. He pulls his feet up and turns in the sofa, leaning back against the arm with the book resting on his thighs. Jeff forgets how his clothes are clinging to him from the rain, how his hair is starting to dry fluffy on his forehead, how he should probably be keeping an eye on the time, and just lets himself get absorbed into the book in his hands. He has no idea how long he's been reading when the shop plunges into darkness, and, much to his embarrassment, Jeff lets out a scream.

There's a scream and a crash from the back room, and the man from before pushes noisily through the bead curtain with a torch in his hands. Jeff blinks as the beam hits him full in the face, shielding himself with the book.

"Oh! It's you! I didn't realise you were still here, you just scared the crap outta me!" He laughs, lowering the torch and coming round from behind the counter toward Jeff. Jeff laughs a little nervously. He's in a dark shop, he realises, with a man he doesn't know. A man who might very well be a murderer. Jeff glances down at the book in his hands. Or a vampire, he thinks. "The power's out." The man says. "I'm gonna have to close up."

Jeff stands up quickly, pushing his feet back into his damp shoes. He holds out the book for the man to take.

"I guess I got a bit involved..." He says, smiling, "I'll... I'll come back and get it another day, my wallet's back at school so..."

The man pushes the book back toward him gently. "I'll tell you what; you borrow it, and bring it back tomorrow to pay for it. Or just bring it back and get something else." He smiles, only half visible in the darkness of the shop.

Jeff smiles back, hugging the book to his chest as he makes his way to his bag in the dark and picks it up, swinging it over his shoulder.

"Thank you..." Jeff pauses in the doorway, glancing back at the man.

"Nick."

"Thanks Nick." Jeff says again, "I'll see you tomorrow to pay for this!" He raises the book a little in his arms, tugging his hood up over his head. Nick just nods and goes back behind his curtain. Jeff watches a second longer before opening the door and stepping out into the rain. He pushes the book into his bag and runs all the way back to Dalton.

* * *

Jeff makes his way to his room, trailing water on the polished wooden floors of Dalton's many hallways. His bag, blazer, and hoodie are on the floor the moment he's through the door of his room, quickly followed by his damp shirt. Jeff glances at the door to his bathroom, but the book in his bag is practically calling out to him to be read, and he decides to forgo a shower and just read. Besides, he reasons as he changes into a pair of loose lounge pants, he's already been in one shower today. Jeff retrieves his book from his bag and flops onto his stomach on the bed. He turns on his bedside light, grateful for its light filling the room as a crash of thunder practically rattles the window panes. Stretching out lazily and flicking through to find his page, Jeff settles down with his chin on his hand and starts to read.

The next time Jeff looks up it's three in the morning and he's finished the book. As he rolls over and sets it on his bedside table his stomach rumbles so loudly that for a second Jeff thinks the storm's still going outside. He grabs his phone and selects the flashlight, pushing himself off the bed and walking out into the corridor. He creeps as quietly as he can to the lunch hall, his phone lighting the way ahead of him. The hall is quiet around him, silent and still and shadows jump up on the walls, making him shiver. He's beginning to think that this was a dumb idea, images of monsters hiding just behind the kitchen doors creeping unwanted into his mind. Jeff makes it safely into the kitchen, jumping through the doors to scare away anyone who might be there. He doesn't want coffee, it's far too much the middle of the night for that, and decides on warm milk.

It's only when he's leaning back against the counter, an empty crisp packet by his side, sipping slowly from the mug in his hands, that he remembers the man from the shop - Nick - in the same position. Jeff still isn't over how nice Nick had been to him in lending him the book. Jeff's eyes droop slightly, head dipping forward in a momentary doze. He glances at his phone. Four AM. Jeff winces. He has to be up in three hours, and it's looking all the more tempting to just skip class and go back and pay for the book when he wakes up. But his first lesson is English Literature. They're doing banned texts and, quite honestly, he just doesn't want to miss it. So he heads back to bed, padding sleepily through the corridors to his room. Jeff's barely got comfortable, nuzzling his cheek into the pillow gently, before he's fast asleep, hand curled in the sheets.

* * *

Jeff pushes his hand out of the covers, grabbing blindly for his phone to try and turn his alarm off. Normally McFly is the only way to start his day but after barely three hours sleep he definitely doesn't want to hear about girls going insane, no matter how many colours they have in their hair. He turns the alarm off with a groan, slowly getting out of bed and putting on a clean pair of boxers and a shirt from his wardrobe. Jeff makes a face as he pulls on his trousers. He'd left them on the floor overnight and they're still damp, clinging to his skin as he shrugs on his blazer and grabs his English folder. His hand lingers on the top of _Let the Right One in_, and he pushes that into his bag too. He'll go back to the shop after class.

Despite his enthusiasm for it during the wee hours, English drags. Jeff dozes and doodles in the margins of his notebooks. He's hardly paying attention at all to his teacher, and when the bell rings it takes him a minute to snap out of his _Lady Chatterley's Lover_ fuelled stupor. In fact, it takes Trent nudging him before he even realises that the bell's rung at all.

"Jeff! You aren't listening to me at all, are you?" Trent sighs as they make their way slowly to their next class. "I was just saying that Lady Chatterley is, quite frankly, one of the greatest books of our time, although I entirely see why it was banned for so long. The language alone makes me blush..."

"I've read worse..." Jeff says without thinking, ignoring the resulting startled look from Trent.

There's a piece of paper pinned to their French room's door. Their teacher is sick and, much to Jeff's delight, class has been cancelled for the day. They've been set an assignment, and the note was in French, so that was sort of work, but Jeff still has the entire rest of the day free. Bed beckons, but the heavy weight of the book in his bag reminds him that he has somewhere he should be.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Trent asks, carefully copying down the assignment details from the note on the door. In French. "I might go and start on this. I like to get it done early. Or we could see what the other Warblers are doing?"

"Actually... I have to go out for a bit, I'm gonna go actually buy a copy of the texts for English..." Jeff answers him. It's not really a lie. He should at least _see_ if Nick has a copy of _Lady Chatterley's Lover_, because _he_ most certainly doesn't. Trent nods approvingly and bids him farewell before leaving him to go to the library. Jeff shakes his head, smiling slightly. He takes a quick picture with his phone of the note on the door so that he has the assignment - as if he's going to write it down - and then hurries out of school.

The walk into town doesn't take Jeff long. The weather's cleared up, sun shining brightly and reflecting off the puddles left from the storm. It's still a little cold and Jeff's fingers soon go numb even though he has his hands pushed into his pockets. It smells of rain on dirt. _Petrichor,_ Jeff reminds himself. He's smiling already when he reaches the book shop, and actually laughs out loud when he reads the name of the shop.

'A Likely Story' proclaims a painted sign displayed proudly across the front of the shop. Jeff had missed it in his hurry to get inside the day before. He pushes the door open, still smiling to himself, and walks through the empty shop to the counter. Rummaging through his bag with one hand, he hits the bell with the other and waits for Nick to appear. Jeff retrieves the book and lays it on the counter, tracing his fingers idly over the embossed letters of the title, filling out the shape of them one by one. He rings the bell again.

"Just coming!" Nick yells from somewhere behind the curtain, appearing through the strings of beads a moment later. The moment he sees Jeff, he grins, a huge white smile that unexpectedly makes Jeff's heart flutter with excitement. "It's you! You know the power came back on about fifteen minutes after you left yesterday. You could have stayed out of the rain a little longer."

"Oh, um..." Jeff stutters, "I had to get back to school anyway... I board there..."

"Ah yes, I noticed the blazer yesterday." Nick says, reaching out to tap the 'D' on Jeff's blazer pocket, "A fellow Detonate I see."

"You... you went to Dalton?"

"I did indeed." Nick laughs. "A while ago now..."

Jeff smiles down at Nick. He can't be that much older than him, at least, Jeff doesn't think that he looks it. There's a slightly awkward silence as Jeff tries to think of something to say in reply. Should he ask how old Nick is? He kind of wants to know now but his mother always taught him it was rude to ask people's age. Or to ask a woman her age. Does it apply to guys too? Jeff realises they've been standing in silence for at least a minute now when Nick raises his eyebrows expectantly.

"Oh! I brought this back!" He says, pushing the book forward with his index finger.

"Did you want to pay for it or swap it for something else?" Nick asks, picking the book up and flicking through it. Jeff hesitates. He wants to pay for it, after all, it's not a library here, it's a bookshop, but... he's finished it. He makes a decision.

"I... May I swap it please?"

Nick grins at him. "So you finished it did you?" He comes out from behind the counter, going over to put the book back in its place on the shelf. "I guess you must have read a lot of it here before you left?"

"Actually I... I kind of stayed up half the night reading it..." Jeff admits, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't stop reading until three..." He pushes his hands into his blazer pockets, shrugging a little.

"A man after my own heart." Nick laughs and folds his arms over his chest. "I've done that more times than I can remember..." Nick looks him up and down, and Jeff feels himself blushing. "Coffee?"

Jeff nods, stifling a yawn that makes Nick chuckle. "I'll be right back then. Have a look around, pick something new out." He's halfway to the counter before he stops suddenly and turns around. "I am being so incredibly rude. I never asked how you like your coffee... Or even your name for that matter."

"Um, cream and two sugars please, if that's okay. And I'm Jeff."

"Pleased to meet you, Jeff from Dalton Academy."

Jeff watches Nick disappear behind the curtain and goes back to the horror section, looking over the spines. A book face out on the shelf catches his eye. The figure of a man in uniform, his hand pressed against a frosty window pane, decorates the cover.

"The Greatcoat." Jeff reads aloud. He turns the book over and scans the blurb before dropping his eyes down to look for a price. To his surprise, it's in pounds.

"That's a good one."

Jeff turns, still holding it in his hands. Nick's holding out a mug of coffee and Jeff takes it from him, putting the book back on the shelf. The two of them sit on the leather sofa that Jeff had been so comfortable on the day before and suddenly Jeff feels very shy. The shop's almost silent, the sound of Nick gingerly sipping from his mug and the buzz of speech from somewhere in that back room. Jeff glances at Nick, but Nick isn't looking at him, and then down at his mug. The coffee's warmed the ceramic to the point where it almost hurts to hold it, but Jeff likes that, bringing it to his lips to take a tiny sip. It's sweet and creamy and so absolutely perfectly made that Jeff can't help but make a little noise of approval. Nick looks up, catching his eye and smiling.

"This is really good..."

"Thank you." Nick says, sipping from his mug again.

Jeff drinks a little more of his coffee. He's probably imagining it, but he's sure he can feel himself getting more and more awake with each mouthful. They've been sitting together without speaking for almost ten minutes when a phone rings in the back room, startling them both. Nick apologises and stands up, going to answer it, leaving Jeff alone in the shop with his empty coffee mug. He tries not to eavesdrop, taking _The Greatcoat_ off the shelf again and studying it. Jeff takes his time in looking over the other books, but nothing else grabs him, so he takes his choice over to the counter. He leans forward, peering through the curtain a little guiltily. He can see Nick pacing, the phone pressed to his ear. He laughs loudly, just the sound of it making Jeff smile without him meaning to.

Nick hangs up and Jeff jerks back behind the counter hurriedly. Jeff smiles innocently - he hopes - as Nick comes back from behind the curtain, looking down at him.

"I will get this one, I think... seeing as it comes so highly recommended..." He tells Nick, holding _The Greatcoat_ up.

"Very good, Sir. And is there anything else I can get for you today, Sir?" Nick says in a surprisingly good fake English accent as he puts the book in the bag.

"Um... how much is it? It was in pounds on the back..."

Nick grins. "Ten dollars. I got a box of them in from England, we've only got the hardcover copy here and I think it puts people off sometimes... they're lovely to own and have on a shelf but to carry around..." He shrugs.

"I agree!" Jeff says excitedly, digging ten bucks out of his wallet and handing it over. "They're so heavy! Sometimes I buy two copies, one to have on a shelf and one to actually take with me and read!" He takes the bag and pushes it into his rucksack, smiling at Nick.

Nick laughs. "I'm the same. A clean copy and a reading copy." Jeff nods enthusiastically. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, Jeff. Maybe I'll see you soon?"

Jeff nods even harder. "I'll definitely be back." He pauses. "I mean, you have books and you make good coffee, why wouldn't I? See you around." Jeff waves and heads out of the door.

Jeff's blushing, cursing at himself as he walks. He'd _flirted_ with Nick. He'd _flirted with him_. He's such an ass. He makes it halfway back to Dalton, lost in his own thoughts before turning around and pelting back to 'A Likely Story'. His rucksack bounces and bumps against his back as he runs until he bursts, breathless, into the shop.

"Lady Chatterley's Lover!" He half yells, gasping, bent over with his hands on his knees. He looks up to see Nick staring at him, wide eyed.

"... What about her?"

"I..." Jeff takes a deep breath, straightening up. "I need a copy... for school..."

"Oh!" Nick laughs as realisation dawns. "You still study that at Dalton then?" Jeff just nods, still panting. "Banned Texts?" Jeff nods again.

"Do you have it?" Jeff asks, finally catching his breath. "I have an assignment to do and I... to be honest I haven't even read it."

Nick shakes his head. "It's such a good book. I think you're really going to love it." He says, stepping out into the shop. "Actually..." He turns and goes back behind the curtain. Jeff watches him in confusion, waiting until he comes back with a battered copy in his hands. "This was my copy when I was in school. Maybe my notes will help you as much as they helped me."

Jeff holds his hands out for the book.

"How much do I -"

"Take it. But bring it back. That was the book that made me want to study English at College."

Jeff takes the book carefully. "Seriously? I can take a new copy if you want me to..."

Nick shakes his head. "Go on. Maybe he'll like a little trip back to his old stomping ground. The book, I mean."

Jeff laughs and puts it into his bag. "Thank you, Nick... I better get back..."

Nick says goodbye, and Jeff leaves the shop and walks slowly back to Dalton. He's really only met Nick twice but already just thinking about him makes his stomach twist pleasantly. It's nice, Jeff thinks, having a friend that's a bit older. It's nice having a friend that he hasn't met at school. Hell, it's nice having a friend that isn't a fictional character. Jeff stops suddenly, the shape of the two books digging into his back a little through his bag. What if Nick isn't his friend? What if Nick doesn't think of him like that? What if he's that friendly to everyone he meets? He starts walking again, even slower than before. He's dawdling, mind going around in circles about Nick. Why does it even matter to him so much what Nick thinks. Surely Nick wouldn't just lend a book to a random person. But then... _Jeff_ had been a random person when Nick lent him that book. He might even _still_ be a random person to Nick. Not that it matters... But it does matter... until he's through the door and back into his own room, putting his bag on his bed and sitting down heavily next to it.

There's a rumble of thunder outside and Jeff looks up just as a flash of lightening lights up his room. It starts to hail, the sound of each tiny, icy little ball bouncing off his window as soothing to Jeff as a cool cloth on a feverish forehead. He's tired all of a sudden, his lack of sleep catching up with him as if the caffeine from his perfect, wonderful coffee with Nick had never even entered his system. Pushing his blazer off and dropping it on the floor along with his bag, Jeff rolls over onto his stomach, buries his face in the pillow and falls asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Jeff blinks lazily, slowly rising back up out of a dream. His phone tells him it's six a.m. He slept for twelve hours. Twelve hours of what he knows somehow was full of dreams, even though he doesn't really remember what they were about. Jeff stretches. He sits up. His sheets are tangled around his legs, still in his grey school trousers from the day before. Saturday. It's Saturday morning at six a.m. Jeff's positive he hasn't seen this particular time in several months. Or years. Maybe even a decade. He flicks his bedside light on and shuffles forward to pick up his rucksack and dig out his new books. He doesn't even hesitate, putting _Lady Chatterley _to one side and settling back against his pillows with _The Greatcoat_.

Jeff reads until ten, barely moving until the point when if he doesn't pee, he's actually going to wet the bed, and at seventeen years old no one really wants that. But he takes the book with him to the bathroom and only looks away when he absolutely has to, desperate to keep reading. He's back on his bed in no time, sprawled on his front with the book on his pillow, eyes flicking quickly over each word, each line, eating them up as fast as he can without missing the taste of each one. Occasionally Jeff stops to re-read a line or two. Let the syllables settle in his mind, speak them aloud to see what they sound like outside of his mind.

"The huge pregnant Lanc with its belly full of bombs..." Jeff reads slowly, closing his eyes to picture it properly. "The huge pregnant Lanc with its belly full of bombs..." Jeff can see it very clearly in his mind's eye, the plane flying low over some sleepy English field, heading toward the channel and over to France. He smiles slightly, opening his eyes so he can keep reading.

It takes him an hour more to finish the book entirely, closing the back cover and sitting up in silence. He leans back against the pillows again, looking down at the book. He feels unsettled. It didn't scare him, exactly, it wasn't that type of ghost story, the whole thing just... disconcerted him. He pushes his hand through his hair, trying to shake the feeling of unease that's on the edge of engulfing him to the point of making him want to hide in his bed and watch Spy Kids until he feels better. But he needs to shower. He needs to read _Lady Chatterley_. So he forces himself out of bed and back to the bathroom, pushing his clothes off on the way. The hot water of the shower cheers him up a little, but the spray knocks over a shampoo bottle and the noise startles him. He jumps, slipping slightly and managing to knock over every other bottle in his shower. He sighs, looking down at the shower gel and sugar scrub tubs around his feet before rinsing off the conditioner for a final time and shutting off the water.

After he's picked everything up and put it back around the base of his shower, Jeff dries off and gets dressed in baggy blue jeans and a purple v-neck t-shirt. It's bright out when he opens his curtains, and he looks out across the playing fields and smiles. He wants to see Nick. Wants to go and tell him how much he liked the book and ask if he has any other recommendations. Jeff looks slowly from the sunny day outside to the book sitting on his bedside table, then back out of the window again. _Lady Chatterley_ isn't even that long of a book, he thinks. It's about the same length as the one he just read. He can read it tomorrow. He _will _read it tomorrow, Jeff decides with a nod. He's out of the door within ten minutes.

Jeff buys himself a sandwich from a deli on the way. He's in the queue, having settled on a cheese, ham, and red onion panini, before deciding that he doesn't want the onion because it might make his breath smell. Nick won't want oniony breath all over him. Jeff shakes his head slightly. Like he's going to be breathing on Nick enough for him to notice what Jeff's breath smells like. Like he's going to be breathing on Nick at _all_. Jeff pays for his onionless panini and leaves the deli, taking a bite as he walks. What kind of sandwiches does Nick like? Jeff wonders. Maybe he doesn't like sandwiches. He might not. Not everyone does. He might like sweet things in his sandwiches. He might be gluten-intolerant. Jeff takes another bite. He needs to get out of his head. It's why he likes books so much. They distract him.

Jeff finishes his panini and screws the paper bag up, putting it into the bin before crossing the street and heading into Nick's shop. Nick's serving a woman at the till, but he looks up when the door opens and flashes Jeff a smile. Jeff smiles back and starts to walk over to Horror before changing his mind and heading toward the Young Adult books. There's a handful of books on the shelf that he's read; Harry Potter, the Hunger Games, a few Scott Westerfeld books, but there's also a lot he's never even heard of. He's reaching out for one that's caught his eye when he hears Nick bid the woman goodbye. Jeff turns around, smiling at Nick.

"You're back awfully soon. Did you not like the book?" Nick asks, neatening a few pieces of paper on the counter.

"Not like it?" Jeff laughs, "I _loved_ it. I read it this morning! You were right, it is good!"

Jeff stops himself from gushing, walking over to the counter and half leaning on it, face to face with Nick. He's glad he didn't get onions. Nick raises an eyebrow and smiles at him and suddenly Jeff remembers all too clearly what his dreams were about. He can't stop himself from blushing, cheeks heating up as images of Nick on his knees in front of him, his mouth – No. Jeff shakes his head a little, trying to get the incredibly hot but entirely inappropriate pictures out of his mind's eye.

"Coffee?" Nick says, "I was about to have one, I can make you one too, Jeff, if you'd like one." Jeff nods. "I'll be but a moment then. Make yourself comfy!"

Nick disappears off into that back room that Jeff's quickly becoming more and more interested in. Is it just a staff room? He wonders, sitting down on the leather sofa that he's starting to think of as his. Is it a stock room? Does Nick actually live here in the shop? Not in the shop itself, but in the apartment above. Maybe he does. That would be so cool, Jeff thinks, to live above a bookshop. Especially this one, especially Nick's bookshop. It would be so very cool, Jeff thinks, to live with Nick.

Nick comes out with a mug in each hand, a packet of chocolate chip cookies gripped precariously between his teeth. He walks over, hands Jeff one of the mugs and takes the packet of cookies out of his mouth. Jeff looks down at his mug, inhaling the smell of the coffee. The mug's a little chipped, decorated to look like the cover of _The Great Gatsby_. Jeff smiles.

"Cookie?" Nick offers the packet, smiling as Jeff takes one, before taking one himself and dipping it in his mug. A little melted chocolate smears across Nick's upper lip and Jeff licks his own lips without thinking. He wants to lick it off. He wants to lick chocolate off every part of Nick, if he's honest with himself.

"I... I really like this mug." Jeff says, trying to distract himself, swallowing as the tip of Nick's tongue runs over his lip, wiping away the chocolate, "I've never read the book though..."

"I'll let you into a secret," Nick says, leaning close even though they're the only people in the shop, "neither have I. I just like the cover."

Jeff laughs softly and takes a sip of his coffee. Nick does the same, smiling at him over the rim of his mug. The coffee's as perfect as it was the first time, and Jeff's almost absurdly happy that Nick remembered how he takes it. Nick sets his mug down on the wooden floor and turns to look at Jeff.

"So how're you finding Lady Chatterley?" Nick asks. Jeff must have pulled a face without meaning to because Nick chuckles and reaches for his coffee. "It's not that bad, surely?"

"I haven't... actually... started it yet..." Jeff says slowly, disappointed in himself as Nick jokingly shakes his head. "I'm going to read it tomorrow!"

"Of course you are." Nick laughs, patting Jeff's knee as he stands up, sipping his coffee.

"I am!" Jeff protests. He's not. He's not going to read it tomorrow and they both know it but right now he honestly couldn't care less if he tried because Nick's hand had been warm through his jeans from the mug of coffee and Jeff's silently freaking out because _Nick touched him._ Nick glances at Jeff, smiling at him.

"I might have to cut you off from your new supply of books if you don't start doing your homework soon!" Nick says sternly, despite the smile playing across his lips.

"Jeez, _Mom_." Jeff laughs, dropping his head down to hide his blush as Nick laughs too, busying himself with the cup of coffee still clutched in his hands. "It's just... there are so many... better books! Modern books!"

Nick rolls his eyes and finishes his coffee. "Kids these days." He says, "Modern doesn't necessarily mean better, you know. Is Twilight a better love story than Pride and Prejudice?"

"No, but at least it doesn't have as many letters in it..." Jeff mutters into his cup as he drains the last of the coffee from it.

"Oh!" Nick says, spinning around to face Jeff again, "Oh, but the epistolary narrative in Pride and Prejudice is _wonderful_." He says with such pure enthusiasm that Jeff almost laughs at him. "Don't

you think?" Nick continues, watching Jeff for an answer.

"Um..." Jeff starts, "I don't know... maybe?" He looks down at his coffee cup. "I kinda... didn't really enjoy it that much..."

"Ah, like you're struggling with Lady Chatterley?" Nick asks, holding his hand for Jeff's mug, his fingers brushing Jeff's lightly as he takes it. Jeff shivers.

"Yeah... at least Pride and Prejudice had a good TV show..."

"Mm, one with a rather wet Colin Firth..." Nick says, then freezes.

Jeff gapes at him, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Neither of them say anything for a very, very long minute before Jeff bursts out laughing. It doesn't take long before Nick's laughing too, hard enough that he has to put down the coffee cups so that he doesn't drop them. Jeff's panting in between giggles, desperately trying to calm himself down because he knows that he's red in the face and he has tears running down his cheeks but every time he thinks he's managed it, he remembers the look on Nick's face and starts laughing again.

Eventually they stop laughing, only the occasional quiet giggle escaping as Nick takes the coffee mugs behind the counter and off into the back room. As Jeff's standing up, half intending to ask Nick if he can help wash the mugs up or something, any excuse to see that back room, to spend a little time closer to Nick, a group of girls come into the shop, almost filling it. Jeff recognises a couple of them as girls from Crawford Country Day. For a second, Jeff feels almost violated. This is his place, his place to see Nick and read and talk. But of course it isn't his place, not really. The girls gather in the fiction section, and when Nick comes back, Jeff picks up his bag and goes over to the counter.

"I'm gonna go," Jeff says quietly, "You're about to get pretty busy..."

Nick nods, glancing at the group of girls. "If you're sure? It won't take too long to serve them, you can... wait around and laugh at my choice in men some more if you wanted?"

Jeff blinks in surprise, looking down as his cheeks heat up. "Um... another time." He says, as confident as he can, trying to restrain the grin that threatens to take over his entire face if he isn't careful. "I should go and read Lady Chatterley."

"Yes, yes, you should." Nick laughs, his gaze moving from Jeff to one of the girls as she approaches the counter. "Let me know how you get on with it, won't you?"

Jeff nods and says goodbye. Just as he's reaching the door, someone taps him on the shoulder and he turns back, expecting Nick to be standing there. It's one of the girls, holding a notebook and a pen.

"Excuse me," she asks, somehow causing a ripple of muffled giggles among the rest of the girls still hidden between Horowitz and Rowling, "Could I maybe get your number?"

Jeff doesn't know what to say. He's almost certain he's not interested in her, or in... well, in girls generally. He glances over at Nick, but Nick's busy chatting to the girl at the counter and so Jeff takes the pen and paper and jots his name and number down, even putting a kiss next to it. You never know, he thinks, she's pretty, and at least she's interested in him. Nick's still not looking.

"Thanks!" She says. "I'm Jenny, I'll call you!"

And with that, she hurries back to her friends and Jeff leaves the shop. He walks back slowly. The heat from the sun has faded a little, and although it's not dark yet, it's certainly getting there. With a start, Jeff realises that he'd been at Nick's most of the afternoon. He smiles to himself. He's still smiling when he gets to Dalton. He smiles all the way through his dinner, and even when he's back alone in his room. Because Nick. Nick likes Colin Firth. Nick likes Colin Firth in a wet shirt. Nick. Nick likes men. Old, British men, apparently, but men none the less. Jeff can't stop himself from laughing, just once, as he lies in his bed. Because Nick likes men, and Nick wanted him to stay at the shop longer and Nick likes _men_. Jeff smiles as he falls asleep.


	2. Chapter Two - In Which Jeff goes Behind

Jeff wakes on Sunday in the best of moods. The night was full of dreams that he remembers, domesticated doodles of days spent with Nick, cooking and gardening with him in a house that his mind created. It seems a little dumb to him, as he lies in bed and stares at the ceiling that he's dreaming about a man he's barely met. Jeff decides he doesn't care. The sun shines through his curtains, bright and beaming, calling him out. Jeff grabs his phone and glances at the time before deciding that nine-thirty is definitely not too early to text Wes and see if he wants to go for a run. He does. Within twenty minutes Jeff's dressed in a vest and a pair of shorts and is waiting outside in the sunshine.

"Morning!" Wes calls, jogging up. "You're not normally up this time of the day!"

Jeff laughs and puts his middle finger up, pushing his hair out of his face with his free hand. "Less of the chat, Montgomery. I'll still kick your ass at running."

Wes just rolls his eyes, and the two of them start off around the sports field. They make it about halfway round before either of them says anything more.

"You missed Warbler practice on Thursday." Wes says, "I came to your room to look for you but you weren't in. Trent said you'd been to the shops but no one could find you."

"Oh... I got stuck in a shop because of the rain." Jeff says, speeding up the pace a little. He can't help but smile a little as he thinks about Nick, trying hard to suppress it. Wes glances at him, smirking. "Is that where you ran off to again on Friday? And yesterday? Trent said you dashed off rather quick."

Jeff blushes, glad of the flush in his face already from running. "I'll take your silence as a yes."

Jeff wipes a little sweat off his forehead. "Sort of... It's a bookshop... I ended up reading there for a while..." Jeff says slowly. He wants to keep it a secret still, wants to keep Nick to himself a little more.

"It sounds like a nice place," Wes says as he chases after Jeff, "Maybe I'll come check it out some time."

"Yeah... maybe..." Jeff says, forcing a laugh, "I bet I can make it round the rest of the field faster than you can!" He says hurriedly before running away from Wes as fast as he can.

His mind is racing. He doesn't want Wes to come to 'A Likely Story.' He doesn't want Wes anywhere near Nick for the pure and simple reason that he just doesn't want to share. Jeff's being selfish. He's not normally like this, he thinks to himself as he runs, trying to keep his pace up enough that he's going to get back to school before Wes, normally he wants to share every little experience he can with his friends. To the point where it's annoying for everyone. But Nick feels different. He _is _different. He's unlike anyone Jeff's been friends with before - and they are friends, he's decided - and so far Jeff thinks that he's been pretty cool around him. Wes can't meet him. Wes knows way more about literature than he does. He'd steal Nick. Oh god, Jeff thinks, Wes is going to steal Nick.

Jeff reaches the school building before Wes, and bends double, hands on his knees as he pants hard. His mind is still going round in circles when Wes claps him on the back, grinning and sweaty.

"Well done! You definitely kicked my ass there; I don't know where you get your energy..."

"I'm not going to let you steal Nick!" Jeff blurts out, before covering his mouth. "I mean... I'm gonna... go... shower. Bye!" With that, he runs off to his room, leaving a very confused Wes staring after him.

Back in his room, Jeff tugs off his sweaty vest and shorts and tosses them into his laundry bin before heading into the shower. As the water streams down over him and plasters his hair down over his forehead Jeff closes his eyes and thinks of Nick again. He remembers the way Nick smiled so happily when he'd seen Jeff the second day, before he even knew his name. The way Nick had made him coffee, and remembered the way he took it. The way Nick's muscles looked under his shirt. The way he treated all his customers so nicely. The way his eyes were the perfect colour. Jeff shakes his head hard. He can't let himself get distracted, he has work to do today. He can't spend hours in the shower thinking about how beautiful Nick's biceps are. Jeff's hand moves slowly down his stomach, and he drags his nails gently through the trail of hair down from his belly button. He has time. He doesn't need to do French work right now. He definitely has time.

Jeff steps out of the shower forty minutes later and wraps a towel loosely around his waist. He dresses in the clothes he wore the day before and flops on his bed, reaching for his phone. He's got a missed call and two texts from a number he doesn't know.

From: Unknown Number

_Hiyaaa! do you wanna get coffee sometime this week maybee? do you no the cafe called mikas cafe? we can meet there at 4 on wednesday?_

From: Unknown Number

_It's Jenny btw! XD_

Jeff wrinkles his nose. She can't spell. He's already regretting giving her his number. But, he reasons, there's no harm in just going for coffee. He might make a friend, even if he doesn't make a _girl_friend. He picks up his phone and sends a text back saying he'll meet her there, and then saves her number in his phone. His mind slips back to Nick again for a second, wondering what he'd say about Jeff having a date. He probably wouldn't even care, Jeff thinks. But maybe he would. Jeff would certainly care if Nick had a date, he thinks. But then Nick doesn't have a huge, massive, elephant on a space-hopper sized crush on Jeff. Jeff, however, does definitely have a huge, massive, elephant on a space-hopper sized crush on Nick. Jeff sighs and holds his phone up again to check the time. Somehow, it's almost noon. Jeff resolves to have lunch, and then start on Lady Chatterley.

* * *

As it turns out, lunch takes considerably longer than he'd planned. Jeff spends three hours of snacking and video games in Wes and David's room, and then a further two hours panicking with Trent before just copying out Trent's French work and hoping that Mademoiselle Moliere doesn't check them too closely. She never has in the past, he thinks, but there's always a chance she might this time. Then it's dinner time, and after that Jeff stumbles back to his room with a stomach full of Sunday roast.

He settles himself on his bed with his laptop and opens up Facebook, browsing idly through updates from people he's been with all day. Jon's tagged him in the background of a photo, but he looks good in it, and wastes a few minutes changing it to his profile picture. David's sent him a link to a livestream of some kittens, and Jeff gets distracted watching the mummy cat clean all the kittens and barely looks up until Facebook bloops at him. Trent's messaging him to reprimand him for not even trying to do his own work. Why Trent's messaging him on Facebook when he's three doors down and Jeff could probably hear him if he shouted, Jeff doesn't know, but he promises to buy Trent a cupcake from the fancy bakery that he likes to make up for it nonetheless. Jeff smiles at the screen. He's starting to find excuses just to go back into town. The bakery's only a street or two from Nick's shop. He could pop in and visit when he goes to get Trent's cupcake. Jeff glances guiltily at the time, and then at Nick's copy of Lady Chatterley, still sitting, ignored for days, on his bedside table.

He could stay up all night, Jeff thinks, and read it. Try and get lost in it and find out why Nick likes it so very much. But he just doesn't want to. He wants to go to sleep and actually be awake in the lesson. He could read a few chapters, try and catch up with the rest of the class. But he doesn't know where they're up to and he _just wants to sleep._

So he does.

He sleeps through his alarm and barely makes it to class on time, sitting down with a thud onto his chair just as their teacher walks in. He smiles winningly at Trent as Trent rolls his eyes disapprovingly and motions for Jeff to smooth down his bed hair.

Jeff pulls Nick's copy of Lady Chatterley from his bag and drops it onto the table, as well as a handful of pens. The teacher, Mr Rowling, takes the roll call, and then turns to the board and writes 'Lady Chatterley's Lover - Discussing Chapters 1-3'

"Now, last lesson we talking about Lady Chatterley's Lover and why it was banned both here, in England, and other countries around the world. Today we're going to start looking at the text in detail, analysing it in chunks.

"Okay now, we'll start by discussing some of the themes of the book. Can anyone tell me a theme?"

Jeff scrambles to open the book in front of him. He's expecting a few words underlined, a couple of arrows and notes but the blank page next to the start of the chapter is _covered_ in messy, curling handwriting that has got to be Nick's. Next to him, Trent raises his hand.

"Trent?"

"Love. Lawrence thinks that love is the way sex expresses itself. Sex, of course, is another theme." Trent lowers his hand, smiling and ticking off two from the list titled 'Themes' written neatly in his notebook.

Jeff looks down at the book, scanning Nick's handwriting hurriedly. The first page is all notes about Clifford Chatterley, there's no mention of themes anywhere. Jeff's starting to regret not actually reading the book. He flicks through a few pages as more people throw forward ideas for themes. There's another set of handwriting dotting the pages alongside Nick's, black ink spiked into phrases in the margins. And in this handwriting is written the sentence 'the whole point - Touch.' Nick's drawn a box around it in pencil. Jeff takes a chance and raises his hand.

"Touch." He says. "The whole point of the novel is touch."

"Very good!" Mr Rowling says, pointing at him enthusiastically with his board marker. "Can you elaborate?"

Shit.

Jeff looks down at the book again, reading quickly.

"Well... Clifford is out of touch with... with the people of England." Jeff starts slowly, flicking back to the front of the book. "He feels no connection with them, but thinks that they are out of touch with him, that it's their fault? He represents the... intelligentsia. And as he's out of touch with the workers, I guess Lawrence is saying that the upper classes are out of touch with the working classes during this time?" Jeff risks another look down at Nick's notes. "He's an allegorical character as much as a real person, a real character I mean." His teacher's turned away and started writing things up on the board, taking down what Jeff's saying, "And of... of course, touch is related to love and sex, right? and Clifford can't produce an heir through the first alone and he can't do the second so he's out of touch with his wife? He's England, metaphorically, literally crippled by war and... and maybe unable to continue, and, like... he can't produce an heir, that's why he wants Lady Chatterley to get a lover in the first place, right?" Jeff hopes he's right, he hasn't read the book. He's flying on Nick's notes and Nick's notes alone.

Mr Rowling beams at him, frantically finishing off the notes on the board.

"Absolutely. You're right, Jeff, the characters in the book are all out of touch with each other, at least in the first few chapters. And you made some very good points about Clifford Chatterley there too. You've also enabled me to slide gracefully into our next topic for today – the characters in the novel."

He continues, but Jeff isn't listening. He's staring down at the book in his hands, grinning to himself. This is amazing. It's like he's in half blood prince, but there's less magic and potions. He reads over Nick's notes on Clifford Chatterley again, trying to learn them for himself. He should read the book but... he almost feels like he doesn't need to, Nick's notes are that clear. But Nick would be disappointed if he didn't. He wonders briefly who the other handwriting belongs to. A teacher? A sibling? A friend? As he ponders, a note lands on top of his book, his name neatly printed on it. Jeff rolls his eyes and glances sidelong at Trent, who's staring at the board intently. He unfolds the note carefully.

'WHERE did you learn that?! I didn't even know you knew what allegorical meant. You hadn't even read the book last time I spoke to you.'

Jeff grabs his pen.

'I studied like you always tell me to, Trent. Of course I know what allegorical mean. When we did Dracula I was all up in those allegories.'

He folds the piece of paper up, and is about to pass it back before he grins, unfolds it, and adds 'I bleed metaphors. Metaphorically, of course.' Before flicking it back to Trent and settling down for the rest of the lesson.

* * *

The rest of the lesson, as it turns out, is a bit of a blur. Jeff spends most of it actually reading the book, guess-answering questions posed to him by Mr Rowling. He gets them all right. Mr Rowling clearly thinks that Jeff's enthusiasm for Literature has returned after the double dip that was _Pride and Prejudice_ and then _Catcher in the Rye_. Jeff had hated them both and had remained almost entirely silent throughout the previous term. The year before, however, Jeff had waxed lyrical for several minutes on how important the symbolism of coffins was in _Dracula_, and had managed an A+ on his final paper, entitled 'Female Characters in Dracula - Why Mina Harker should have just died.'

The bell rings and Jeff stuffs everything into his bag and practically runs out of the room before his teacher can corner him. Mr Rowling has a habit of talking with students after class, and Jeff normally wouldn't mind but he doesn't think he can wing a one on one conversation; not without having to look at Nick's notes more. Back in his room, Jeff tugs Lady Chatterley back out of his bag and hugs it to his chest. Nick is an English _genius_. He doesn't have time to sit and read now though, only to swap his books over for his French ones and head back out to class. French passes slowly, and then lunch, and then Jeff runs back to his room to get his gym kit and plug his phone in. He hates to leave it, normally, but it's nearly out of charge from being played with all through French, so he plugs it in and heads out again.

In the changing room, Jeff catches Trent eyeing him suspiciously as he pulls on his shirt. He raises his eyebrows, but Trent does the same and puts his hands on his hips. Oh god, Jeff thinks, Trent's doing his sassy face.

"I still don't know how you did that. In Lit. class earlier." Trent narrows his eyes. "I think you cheated."

"How can I cheat, Trent?! It wasn't a test! You can't cheat at studying!"

"Did you have the Spark Notes under the desk?"

"You were _sitting next to me_." Jeff says, exasperated, changing into his soccer shorts.

Trent purses his lips and crosses his arms. "I'll be watching you, Jeffrey Bishop. I'll be watching."

Jeff throws a towel at him and runs past out onto the soccer field before Trent gets the towel off his face. Having Nick's notes isn't cheating. It's like having studied it himself and put the notes in the book himself. You can't cheat at Lit. That's dumb. Trent's dumb. Unless he is cheating... Jeff shakes his head, following the rest of the class in the warm up, lunging across the field. No, he's not cheating, he decides, jogging on the spot frantically. Definitely not cheating. Plagiarism maybe. Which is technically cheating. He tugs on his goalkeeper's gloves and takes his place in front of the net as the teams start to play. He'd only be cheating if he took one of Nick's essays and copied it. And he doesn't _have_ one of Nick's essays, so he can't cheat. Perfect. He's no cheater.

The soccer ball hits him square in the face.

Trent insists on guiding Jeff back to his room, despite Jeff constantly reassuring him that he almost definitely doesn't have brain damage. He does, however, have a black eye.

Jeff lets Trent lie him down on the bed and take his shoes off before pulling the covers up over him.

"I don't need to go to bed, Trent."

"The nurse said you might have a concussion! You need rest!"

"No, Trent, the last thing I should do is fall asleep. What if I _never wake up_?"

Trent slaps his arm and then puts his hands on his hips, frowning at Jeff.

"Don't say that!"

Jeff sighs softly, sitting up in bed. "I'll stay in bed, okay? I just don't want to sleep. I'll read." He reaches for his bag, pulling Lady Chatterley out of it and showing it to Trent. "I'm resting _and_ learning, see?"

Trent points at the book.

"I knew you hadn't read it." He huffs, turning and walking dramatically out of the room.

Jeff shakes his head and looks down at the book. He might as well read it now that he's holding it. It's not like Trent's going to let him do anything else today. He climbs out of bed and strips down to his pale blue boxers before getting back in and settling back against the pillows. Jeff sighs, and starts to read.

After an hour or so, Jeff stops and rubs his eyes. This is much harder going than he'd thought it was going to be. He hasn't even got to the sex yet. He's having trouble finding a character he identifies with, that's the problem. He doesn't like Clifford, apart from feeling a little sorry for him. He doesn't like Mellors. He doesn't even like Connie, the eponymous Lady Chatterley herself.

Oh God, Jeff thinks, Am I sexist? I'm meant to like Connie, but I don't, he thinks. Do I not like her because she's a woman? Is that why I can't emphasise with her? Because she's female?! Oh God, Jeff thinks, I _am_ sexist. Wait. Wait a second. Jeff's read plenty of books that haven't made him feel sexist. I can't be sexist, he thinks. I got on fine with The Greatcoat... in fact, I loved it, and that had a female protagonist. He's just being dumb, He just doesn't like the book. That's what it'll be. He's not sexist. He likes lots of women, in a non-creepy way.

As if on cue, his phone beeps on his bedside table.

From: Jenny from the Shop

Hi! Still on for wednesday? xxx

To: Jenny from the Shop

Yeah, of course, as long as you are?

Jenny replies in the affirmative and Jeff sends back a smiley face. Their conversation lapses after that and Jeff reluctantly returns to the book. He struggles on through, having more fun reading Nick's notes than the text itself. They make the book far easier to understand - not that it's that hard anyway. Nick also occasionally has conversations in the margins with whoever the black spiky handwriting belongs to. Jeff's sure it's another student. There are a couple of conversations about rehearsal times, and one about learning lines. Was Nick an actor when he was at Dalton, Jeff wonders?

It takes him four long hours to finish the book, and by then he's struggling to stay awake. But he's finished. He's actually finished. He can't wait to tell Nick. He sets the book neatly on his bedside table, moving his phone on top of it. He glances at the time. Time for sleep, he decides. Time. For. Sleep. Jeff turns off the light and flops back against the pillows, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Jeff takes a deep breath and blows it out, watching the steam billow from his lips into the cold morning air. He's standing outside A Likely Story, waiting for it to open. He'd been a tad enthusiastic this morning when he'd woken up, his excitement at having no classes getting the better of him. Jeff turns away, looking around at the other shops, humming softly to himself. He'd taken his headphones out when he'd bought coffee and hadn't been able to put them back in with his hands full, so he can just about hear the music coming from them, buzzing and tinny in the otherwise quiet of the street. He hears the door unlock behind him and spins around, beaming.

"Jeff! Jeff, what happened to your face?" Nick says, holding the door open to let Jeff inside.

"What? Oh, soccer ball." Jeff says. He'd forgotten about the black eye. That would explain the funny look he'd got in the coffee shop. What must he look like.

Nick nods slowly, flipping over the sign on the door so that it reads 'Open' to the outside world. Jeff holds up the little cardboard tray in his hand, two takeaway coffee cups with a wodge of napkins pressed between them. He hadn't known what kind of coffee Nick drank, when the barista had asked him, so he'd just got him a black coffee. He tells Nick this.

"I got you a coffee... I didn't know what kind you drank, so I just got a black Americano... I hope that's okay. I didn't want to get you a latte or something and then find out you were lactose intolerant... or a vegan."

"I'm not a vegan." Nick says with an amused smile, coming over and taking the cup with an N scrawled on it in black marker. "But I am vegetarian. And thank you for the coffee."

"I got palmiers too." Jeff puts the little paper bag on the counter. "I hope it wasn't like... super rude of me to buy you a pastry without asking..."

Nick shakes his head, laughing. "No, it's really sweet of you, thank you. I'm just going to put a little cinnamon and cream in this. For future reference, that's how I take it."

He goes off into the back room of the shop with his coffee, and Jeff waits until he's out of sight before grinning from ear to ear. Nick said he was _sweet_! Nick asked if his face was okay (sort of). Nick doesn't mind that Jeff bought him breakfast without asking. Jeff sips his coffee, trying to hold back his smile a little as Nick comes back out with his cup and two plates.

"For the pastry. Can't have my books all full of crumbs... at least not the ones I want to sell!" Nick grins, winking at Jeff. Jeff chokes on his coffee. Nick either doesn't notice, or pretends not to, concentrating on getting the two biscuits out of the bag and onto the plates. As Jeff takes his plate, he notices the book it was sitting on top of. Its pages are so crinkled it's twice as thick as it should be, and there's a postcard wedged into the middle of it as a bookmark.

"Are you reading this?" Jeff asks before taking a bite of his pastry, trying not to cover himself in flaky crumbs. Nick nods, sipping his coffee.

"For my book group. Have you read it?"

"Are you kidding?" Jeff grins, setting his plate down. "Nineteen Eighty-Four is one of my all time favourite books. I even wrote about it for Lit. last year."

"You did?" Nick asks.

"Uh-huh. I compared the use of language in Nineteen Eighty-Four, you know, Newspeak, to the use of language in A Clockwork Orange, like, Nadsat, and how they helped create a complete and believable dystopian world." Nick's smiling all amused at him again and Jeff blushes. He changes the subject. "Why's it all crinkly?"

"I fell asleep in the bath while I was reading it and it fell in the water." Nick says, taking a big bite of his pastry.

Jeff wishes he hadn't changed the subject. Now all he can think of is Nick in the bath. Nick all covered in soap suds. Nick rubbing the soap suds all over his body. All over his - Jeff takes a mouthful of coffee to distract himself.

"So... uh... you have a book group?"

"I do indeed." Nick grins, sipping his coffee. "It's my turn to host and I haven't even finished the book yet. I've read it before, but..."

"But you wanna refresh your memory?"

Nick nods and finishes up the last of his pastry. "It's been years." He picks up his and Jeff's plates, stacking them one on top of the other and taking them through the curtain. "Hey, do you wanna come?" He calls back behind him.

Jeff coughs on the last of his coffee. "Come to the book group?"

"Come through!" shouts Nick over the sound of running water, "bring my coffee with you, please?"

Jeff blinks, picking up his bag and his and Nick's coffees. Nick's inviting him in. He's going behind the curtain. This is ridiculous, he shouldn't be this excited. But he is. He really is. He walks slowly behind the counter and pushes through the curtain. The beads catch and cling onto his bag and his jacket, draping over his wrists and he instinctively closes his eyes to protect them, which he knows is dumb. When he opens them again he's standing in a small living room. Jeff looks around him, mouth falling open. It's like he's walked into another bookshop. A messy one. There are books everywhere.

Stacked on the windowsills and piled on the floor. The piles are almost as high as his knees, he thinks, in some places. They're being used as tables, a wine glass resting on one, a lamp on another. There's an old couch with a knitted patch blanket thrown over the back of it. A blue exercise book is splayed open over one of the arms.

Nick turns away from the sink in the small kitchen in the corner of the living room where he's been rinsing the plates. He smiles as he dries his hands. Jeff's still staring around in amazement, trying to take in the room. There are two big book posters on the wall either side of the window; the cover of a Tintin book - Red Rackham's Treasure - which Jeff has read, and another book that he hasn't. A Little Love Song. It's a black and white picture of a girl leaning out of a window, imposed onto a blue background. It's nice. Jeff steps carefully over to Nick, holding out his coffee.

"Welcome to my little pocket of the world." Nick says.

"It's amazing..." Jeff breathes, still turning to look at everything. He barely hears Nick's words of thanks at the compliment. He can see the little kitchen now. Glass fronted cupboards displaying neat stacks of plates and a cupboard entirely full, from what Jeff can see, of mugs. There are herbs growing in pots on the counter. At least, Jeff assumes they're herbs. They're plants. Outside in the shop, the bell rings.

"Make yourself at home." Nick smiles, taking the coffee from Jeff and setting it on the counter. "I'll be back soon."

He walks past Jeff out to the shop, leaving him alone in the room. Jeff steps over to the sofa and sets his bag down onto it, shrugging off his jacket and laying that on top. He pushes his hands into his pockets and, picking carefully through the piles of books, over to the shelves on the far wall. Mostly they're full of books - surprise, surprise - but there are other things too; knickknacks and photos in frames. There's a picture of a younger Nick with his arm slung around a guy who looks vaguely familiar, standing outside the shop. They're both grinning cheesily at the camera, pointing up at a painted banner that reads 'Opening Today!' Jeff smiles just looking at it. He trails his finger along the edge of a toy lion, walking along the shelf to the next photo. Little Nick in an oversized Dalton blazer, an obviously new school satchel slung over his shoulder. He must be about ten or eleven in this photo, Jeff thinks. How many years before Jeff joined Dalton was this taken? He still has no idea how old Nick is. He's gotta be at least five years older... unless he didn't finish college. Jeff could have been _five_ when this photo was taken. That seems weird. Really weird.

Jeff takes another step without looking and knocks over a pile of books. He swears and drops down onto his knees, picking them back up quickly and putting them into a pile. He hopes they weren't in a particular order. None of the other piles seem to be. There's a cough from the doorway and Jeff looks up guiltily.

"Browsing?" Nick asks, leaning on the doorframe with an amused smile.

Jeff laughs, looking down and standing up. "I didn't mean to be nosey..." He says apologetically.

"It's okay." Nick shrugs. "I'd do the same in your place." Jeff smiles, still a little embarrassed. They stand in slightly awkward silence.

Nick smiles at him. "When I said to make yourself at home, I meant to get comfy on the couch or something..." He laughs.

Jeff blushes harder, but steps away from the bookshelves and over to the couch. He flops down onto it, tipping his head back to look at Nick upside down.

"Is this better?" He asks, grinning, faking bravado. He can't tell if he's joking or flirting.

Nick chuckles, going over to the kitchen to pick up his coffee cup and drink the last of it before throwing it in the trash. "That's much better." He says, coming over to settle on the other side of the couch. They're in closer proximity than they've ever been before. Nick smiles at him. "I hope you don't mind... when I have people over we tend to just... sit and read... I'm not really a social animal."

He pushes his shoes off and tucks his feet under him. He's wearing socks. Socks with little hearts all over them. Jeff does the same, toeing off his sneakers and reaching for his bag. He pushes his hand in and realises that, for probably the first time in his life, he hasn't got a book with him. He'd left Lady Chatterley in his room and hadn't put anything new into his bag for today. He glances sheepishly at Nick.

"Could I borrow a book?" Jeff asks.

"Oh, did you finish Lady Chatterley? Or are you still avoiding it?" Nick grins.

"I finished it..."

"What did you think?" Nick leans forward a little, looking Jeff in the eye. He looks so hopeful, so enthusiastic.

"I didn't like it..." Jeff says slowly, watching Nick's face fall. "I just... I didn't like any of the characters... I... It felt too much like a school book for me to actually enjoy it..." Jeff looks down. "Even the sex part wasn't all it was talked up to be..." he finishes quietly.

"What did you think it was going to be, Fifty Shades of Awful?" Nick laughs, standing up and going over to the windowsill.

"Fifty Shades is crappy... I've read better written sex scenes for free on the internet; I don't need to buy a book to do it." Jeff snorts, before realising what he's said.

Nick turns, a book in his hands, eyebrows raised. "Would you... rather I pretended that I hadn't heard you?" He says very seriously, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tries not to smile. Jeff nods, blushing hard.

Nick grins, coming over to him and holding a book out with both hands. It's angled so that Jeff can read the title. _The Collected Ghost Stories of M.R James_. Jeff looks up at Nick in surprise.

"You like horror, I noticed. These are classics. Classics I bet you haven't read."

Jeff laughs and takes the book. His stomach flips a little at Nick's smile. Nick remembered that he picked horror books. Nick actually put some serious thought into what book to offer Jeff. Nick agreed to pretend that he never heard Jeff mention online sex fiction. Jeff still can't believe he said that. He's such an ass. Such an ass. Nick drops down onto the other side of the sofa, then sighs, laughing at himself. With a friendly " 'scuse me" he leans across Jeff's lap to get his book from the side of the couch. As he leans back, his hand brushes Jeff's thigh and Jeff finds himself blushing hard. Nick then proceeds to settle at the other side of the sofa with his feet resting gently against Jeff's legs. Nick reaches down the side of the sofa and pulls out a ballpoint pen, then starts to write in the little blue exercise book. Jeff opens the book and starts to read.

Jeff finishes the first short story quickly. It was good. He's never read M.R. James before, but he's almost definitely going to buy everything the man's ever written and read it over and over. Jeff turns a little toward Nick, about to say something, but he stops, mouth open. Nick's writing quickly in his exercise book. Jeff can't make out what he's writing from the other side of the sofa, but he recognises the curl and flick of the letters from Nick's notes in Lady Chatterley. There's something about him though. Something about watching Nick so intently focussed on what he's doing that he hasn't noticed that his foot's hooked over Jeff's leg completely. Nick pauses, pen hovering over the page before he moves to a new line, writes a single word, then moves down a line again. It's strangely intimate, and Jeff doesn't want to disturb him. He goes back to his book.

Jeff gets most of the way through the next story before the bell in the shop rings and both him and Nick almost jump out of their skins.

"You'd be surprised how often that makes me jump!" Nick laughs, before standing up and calling; "Coming!" toward the curtain. "I'll be right back." He says to Jeff, starting toward the shop.

"Wait, um... where's your bathroom?" Jeff asks. The coffee's finally hit his bladder and he's actually squirming slightly with how much he needs to pee.

"Oh, up the stairs through that door, then directly in front of you. You'll see it!" Nick goes out into the shop.

Jeff smiles gratefully, hurrying over to the door and rushing up the stairs. He pushes the door to the bathroom shut behind him, sighing in relief as he starts to pee. After he's finished peeing and washed his hands, he heads back down the stairs, resisting the urge to nose around in Nick's bathroom like he wants to. After all, he thinks as he walks down the stairs, Nick might be in the living room again. And if Jeff spends time looking around Nick's bathroom, Nick might notice that Jeff's been gone a while and might guess that he's snooping. Or worse, he thinks, Nick might think that he's pooping. But Nick's not in the living room, and Jeff can hear him out in the shop talking to someone. He sits back on the sofa a little heavily and Nick's book slips off the arm onto the floor.

"Shit." Jeff swears, grabbing it up off the floor. It falls open to the middle page and Jeff glances guiltily toward the shop door. Nick's still audibly chatting with whoever's out there, and so Jeff looks down at the book again. He blinks in surprise. It's... Jeff thinks it's a poem. It doesn't rhyme, but it isn't prose or a stream of consciousness or anything else Jeff can think of. It's a poem. Nick writes poetry. Jeff glances at the door before reading the poem through again, saying it out loud under his breath.

'I was nine.

I wore sunglasses in the house because

I wanted

to be bohemian.

I was fourteen.

I ran after school

and I hoped

hoped that my muscles would grow.

I was twenty.

A virgin and a vegan,

I wanted

to be someone new.

I was twenty-four.

Fresh out of school,

a B.A in English and

nothing to do.

I was twenty-four.

And not a teacher

and not my parents

and

panicking.'

Outside in the shop, Nick bids goodbye to his customer. Jeff places the book back carefully where it should be on the arm of the sofa and hurriedly sits back down. He shouldn't have read that. He shouldn't have. It was personal. That was Nick's personal writing and he just... he just read it without asking or thinking. Nick pushes back through the bead curtain noisily, startling Jeff.

"Sorry about that." Nick says, dropping back down next to Jeff and pulling his legs back up under him.

"It's your job," Jeff says, smiling nervously and shrugging, "Don't worry about me."

Nick smiles at him and picks up his notebook, flicking it open to the page he'd been writing on before. Jeff glances guiltily at it. Nick finds his pen again and is just about to start writing when he turns to Jeff, the nib of the pen hovering above the page. This is it, Jeff thinks. This is when Nick tells him that he knows Jeff read his secret things and he never wants to him come back to the shop ever again. That they can never be friends, let alone more than that. Nick opens his mouth and Jeff takes a breath, swallowing nervously.

"Did you find the bathroom okay?"

Jeff looks up in surprise.

"Oh... um... yeah, fine, totally fine, yeah, thanks."

Yeah, that was really fucking smooth, Jeff thinks. Well done.

Nick just smiles back and looks down at his notebook again. He starts to write. Jeff looks away, at his book. He finds his page and stares at the words on it but he doesn't read. His mind's whirring and twisting over Nick's writing again. He'd liked it. Was it a poem? It didn't rhyme, but then lots of proper poets' poems don't rhyme. It was set out like a poem. It was a poem, he decides.

_A virgin and a vegan_, Jeff thinks. There's a little part of him, a small, tiny little part of him that takes deep deep comfort from knowing that someone as gorgeous and nice as Nick is was still a virgin at twenty. He's seventeen and he hasn't even had his first kiss yet. He doesn't even know what sexuality he is. He obviously likes guys but... he might like Jenny too. He doesn't know. Jeff turns a page in his book without reading a word.

He glances at Nick. Nick's sucking idly at the end of his pen, gazing at his page. He bounces it gently on the pink, pointed tip of his tongue. Jeff stares. He watches him for as long as he dares to before glancing away. When he looks back, Nick's writing again. Jeff looks closer at him, trying to work out how old he is. _I was twenty four_, he'd written. Past tense. He's gotta be at least twenty five but Jeff has no idea how old. He could ask but he just doesn't want to. Jeff watches Nick a little longer before looking back at his book.

A few minutes later Nick sighs in frustration and puts his book down. Jeff closes his book slowly, looking over at Nick. Nick stands quickly and flashes Jeff a grin.

"Can't concentrate." He says.

"Me either." admits Jeff, smiling up at Nick.

"Coffee?"

"Mm, please." Jeff says, starting to stand up. "Do you want me to help?"

Nick shakes his head, grinning. "What kind of host would that make me to get my friend to make his own coffee?" Nick laughs, turning away and going into the small kitchen.

Jeff' stares at Nick's back. Friend. Nick had called him a friend. They're friends. They're FRIENDS. Jeff suppresses the huge grin that threatens to spread across his face and sits back down properly. He watches as Nick makes their coffee. He moves easily around the kitchen, barely looking where he's reaching sometimes, grabbing things intuitively. Nick hums under his breath as adds hot water to the French press. Jeff watches as he moves to one of the cupboards and opens the door. Jeff blinks in surprise.

He'd been right before, it is a cupboard full of mugs. There's nothing unusual about that, after all, lots of people have cupboards with mugs in in their kitchens. Jeff's mum has one at home. But Nick's mug cupboard is something else. For starters there's nothing in it except mugs. Shelves of them. Big ones at the top, medium ones in the middle, small ones at the bottom. Not a single one of them is plain. There are stripy ones, spotty ones, an entire collection of ones that look like the penguin book covers that Jeff saw on Nick's shelf less than an hour ago. Jeff recognises the _The Great Gatsby_ mug he'd been given sitting upside down next to a mug with the Captain America logo on it. Jeff's staring. How does one person get that many mugs?

While Jeff's gazing at the mug collection, Nick finishes making them both coffee and walks round carefully with a mug in each hand. He passes one to Jeff as he sit down. The mug in his hands, filled with undoubtedly perfect coffee, has a picture of the Abbey Road Beatles album cover on it. Jeff smiles, glancing at Nick as he sips his coffee, noticing with delight that Nick's mug has the Sgt. Pepper album cover on it. They match. Nick picked them matching mugs. Jeff's coffee is amazing. It tastes better somehow, now that he knows that they're friends.

They drink their coffee in comfortable silence. Jeff can hear Nick breathing. His nose whistles a little on each inhale. Jeff finds it incredibly endearing. He imagines waking in the middle of the night and being able to hear Nick breathing in bed beside him. His heart aches a little in his chest. Like he's ever going to spend the night in Nick's bed. He closes his eyes for a second, letting himself picture it a little clearer. The domestic dreams he'd had on Saturday night come rushing back into his head. Waking up with Nick's head resting on his chest. Making breakfast together. Drinking coffee together, reading newspapers. Jeff's never read a newspaper in his life but he wants to. He wants to do crosswords with Nick. Nick's probably awesome at crosswords. They could both sit in the shop and read books and hold hands like the couple in _Up_. Jeff smiles into his coffee.

The buzz of his phone in his pocket pulls him back to reality. Jeff balances his mug on his leg with one hand holding it and pulls his phone out with the other. Trent. A Warbler practice he should be at. Shit. He looks over at Nick, sighing.

"I have to go... I forgot I had practice..." Jeff says, taking a big mouthful of coffee and immediately regretting it as it burns down his throat.

"Oh, okay." Nick says, setting his own coffee down amongst the mug rings stained on the wooden floorboards. He smiles widely, a smile that makes Jeff's breath hitch a little, and stands up. "Do you want to come to the book club? You sound like you know the book." Jeff must have looked hesitant, because Nick continues hurriedly; "There won't be lots of people there, just me and maybe three others. We're a pretty small group this month because... well... well, we're always a small group!"

"Um, okay..." Jeff says, trying to restrain himself from blurting out that of course he'd like to come, why wouldn't he, should he bring a snack, who else will be there, should he bring a copy of the book... "What... what time is it at?"

"Oh, um, how about I'll put my number in your phone? Then you can text me and I'll have yours, and I'll let you know what time it'll be at? It'll be on Friday and we usually say eight but sometimes people have trouble getting babysitters so..."

Jeff nods and hands Nick his phone, then pulls his jacket on and gathers up his bag. When he looks up Nick's holding Jeff's phone in one hand and his own in the other.

"There. I text myself, I hope you don't mind?"

Jeff shakes his head and takes his phone back, tucking it into his pocket. Nick walks him to the door, smiling at a customer who's browsing through the history section. He tells Jeff that he'll text him, and Jeff leaves the shop. Jeff's barely a minute's walk away when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

From: Nick

Just checking it works! :)

Jeff grins to himself, glancing back over his shoulder towards the shop.

To: Nick

It does. :)


	3. Chapter Three - In Which Jeff has a Date

**A/N - Warning for slight homophobia and one use of a slur. Also underage drinking.**

* * *

Jeff holds a red t-shirt up to his chest, and then a purple one. On the bed, Trent looks up from his phone, then purses his lips and shakes his head.

"Neither of them is right for a date. You wanna look sexy."

"It's not a date." Jeff sighs, turning back to look in the mirror. "We're just getting coffee."

"It's totally a date." Trent says, looking down at his phone again. "Wear white. You look good in white."

Jeff glances at him, then finds a white t-shirt and pulls it on, gazing at his reflection. That'll do, he thinks. It's only coffee. It's not a date. They're just gonna meet, and talk, and drink coffee. Jeff glances at his watch, and then out of the window, and then back into the wardrobe. He needs a hoodie, or a sweater, or something. Another layer. Jeff tugs on a black hoodie and turns back to Trent. He throws his arms out, presenting himself.

"Ta dah."

"You'll do." Trent grins, standing up and handing Jeff his bag. "Now go, or you'll be late."

Jeff smiles at Trent and hurries out of his room and down the hall. He walks quickly out of school and heads towards the shops. He's meeting Jenny at Mika's Cafe. It's a few streets away from Nick's shop. He could pop in after. Maybe. But he doesn't wanna annoy Nick... But Nick said they were friends, so it wouldn't be annoying. But it could be. Jeff sighs and picks up his pace. He doesn't wanna be late to meet Jenny. For all he knows, this might be the day that they tell their future children about.

Jenny's standing outside Mika's, pulling her headphones out of her ears. She must have only just arrived, Jeff thinks as he makes his way over to her, smiling. She looks up and sees him, and then waves.

"Hi!" She calls, smiling.

"Hiya," Jeff says, "Hope you haven't been here ages?"

"Not long." Jenny tells him, "I walked here with friends and they just went off to look at clothes so I've not been here much by myself." Jeff nods. "...Shall we go in?"

"Oh! Oh yeah, sorry!" Jeff stutters, opening the door for her and then following her into the cafe. It's not too loud inside, only a few other customers scattered around on various tables. The barista looks up as they come over and smiles at Jeff.

"Back again? You must really love our coffee." She laughs.

Jenny gives Jeff a sideways look. Jeff smiles sheepishly.

"Uh, what do you want? To drink? I mean... I'll get it if you want? I don't want to seem... pushy or..." Jeff blushes, shoving his hand into his pocket for his wallet.

"Can I get a skinny latte with two pumps of caramel, please?" Jenny says, smiling at Jeff.

"And just a normal latte for me, please." Jeff says, and then pays for them both.

They take their drinks over to a table by the window and sit opposite each other. Jenny slips her coat off around the back of her chair. She looks nice, Jeff thinks, the colour of her top really suits her.

"I like your top." Jeff says. "The colour really suits you."

"Oh, thanks!" Jenny smiles, looking down at her top, "I got it for my birthday."

"When was your birthday?" Jeff asks. They dissolve easily into small talk. Jenny not only got the top for her birthday, but also a new set of makeup and a few books she'd been wanting. Conversation continues into books and films, and Jeff finds himself just letting Jenny talk as he listens and drinks his coffee. It's a good coffee, he thinks, but it's not as good as Nick's. Jenny's favourite book is The Host. Jeff's is Prisoner of Azkaban. Jenny liked the film. She hasn't read the book. Nick's read the book, Jeff thinks, Nick must have read the book.

Two hours pass much quicker than Jeff expected them two, and it's only when Jenny's friends bang on the window that they're sitting next to that Jeff and Jenny look up.

"Oh shoot, I have to go!" Jenny says, grabbing up her things as her friends tap their watches and giggle at each other. "Do you wanna... see each other again? Like, Friday night maybe? We could get dinner?"

"Uh, sure, yeah, that sounds great." Jeff says, smiling and standing up. "Um, if you text me what time and where I can meet you?"

Jenny nods and rushes off out of the cafe, calling a thank you and a 'seeya!' over her shoulder as she goes. Jeff smiles. He likes her. He's not sure if he likes her likes her but he likes her none the less. Dinner will be fun. He checks his watch and blinks in surprise. It's past five. He has to get back. Shit, he has work due for tomorrow. He grabs his bag and leaves the cafe, waving to the barista on his way out. She smiles at him. Maybe he's becoming a ladies' man. Maybe he should get the barista's number too. No, he thinks, maybe not.

Jeff's back at Dalton and staring at a maths textbook much sooner than he wants to be. Maths. Ugh Maths. Jeff finishes as many of the questions set as he can before just giving up and pushing the books off his bed onto the floor. He flops back onto the pillows. No. No more maths. Not ever. Maths. Ugh Maths. Well, no more maths until tomorrow's class, Jeff thinks. He pushes his jeans off and crawls under the sheets. Sleep. Sleep will make the Maths go away.

* * *

Jeff wakes. He swims to the surface of consciousness with a slow, easy breaststroke, pulling himself up to the rhythm of his heart beating. The room around him is still mostly dark when he opens his eyes. His phone says that it's six in the morning. It's too early. Jeff closes his eyes again, running through the day to come in his head. Maths. History. English Lit. Warbler practice. He's already bored. Jeff stretches, still not opening his eyes. He could skip class, he supposes. But he wants to go to Warblers later, and he can't not go to class and then go to that.

He could say he was ill, Jeff thinks. Ill in the morning and recovered by the afternoon. Skip maths and history, and maybe English, and be up in time for Warblers. A 24 hour flu bug. Yes, Jeff thinks. That'll do. He opens his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. He'll sleep. Get up in time for lunch. Go down and eat a little, then retreat back to his room, muck about until four, and then go down to Warbler practice with a 'Feeling much better, thanks.'

Perfect.

Jeff goes back to sleep and dozes until ten. He lays in bed and gazes at the ceiling, revelling in the delicious knowledge that Trent and Wes and David are sitting in class right now. Jeff's always loved how different being in bed feels when everyone else you know is in school. He pulls the sheets closer around him. It's his third favourite bed-related feeling, ranking after making a bed on the couch with blanket and pillows, and sleeping. Jeff sleeps a lot. He'd be more worried about it if he wasn't so content in bed. He stretches slowly, considering his options. It's not lunch yet. He can't shower until later, or he won't look grotty and ill at lunch. He smiles, rolling over and sliding out of bed then walking to his bookshelf. He takes _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ from the shelf and returns to his nest of blankets.

It takes him two hours to skim read _Nineteen Eighty-Four_. He knows the book back to front anyway, really, but... if Jeff's honest he just wants to be able to impress Nick at the book club. He glances at his phone to check the time. Twelve. Just in time for lunch. Jeff slips out of bed and goes to his chest of drawers. He pulls out a pair of tracksuit bottoms and an old t-shirt that's a little baggy for him. Tugging them on, he stands in front of the mirror and studies his reflection. Jeff ruffles his hands through his hair to make it look more sleep tousled. There. Just the right side of grotty to make people think he's definitely ill. He then goes into his bathroom and rummages through the bathroom cupboard to find the tub of vaporub that he knows is buried inside amongst painkillers, plasters, and old, half-used tubes of hair product that never quite worked for him. Jeff digs his fingers into the rub and pushes his hand up under his shirt to smooth it over his chest and onto his skin. Now he smells ill too.

Jeff walks into the cafeteria in his flip-flops. He sticks out like a sore thumb without his uniform, but it's still early enough that not that many people are there yet. He's in the queue with an apple, a cheese roll, and a carton of juice when Wes puts his arm around his shoulders.

"Missed you today, Jeff." Wes says, before wrinkling his nose. "What the... why do you smell like menthol?"

"You've cleared my sinuses up, that's for sure." David says before Jeff can reply, slinging his arm around Jeff's shoulders from the other side.

Jeff looks from Wes to David, then steps away from them to pay for his lunch.

"I'm sick." He tells them in his very best 'I'm ill, and probably contagious' voice. "I've been asleep all morning."

Wes and David take a step back.

"How sick?"

"Will you be at practice?"

Jeff rolls his eyes, starting to walk to the door. "I'll be there, probably." Jeff says, "My throat isn't too sore, and I'm sure that I can just... supervise or something."

"DON'T INFECT US ALL!" David yells after him.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE YOUNG!" Wes adds.

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. He takes a bite of his apple as he walks back to his room. Fuck Lit class. Just today. Fuck it. He'll read in his room, that's the same as the class, practically. He finishes his apple just as he gets to his room, dropping the core into his trash can as he walks through the door. Jeff kicks his flip-flops off and drops his lunch on the bed on the way to his bookshelf. He wants something easy to read. Something he's read before. Something that won't tax his brain too much, but that will sufficiently involve him until later in the day. He drags his fingers along the spines on his shelf, smiling to himself, remembering doing the same in Nick's flat. He pulls a book from the shelf and settles himself back in bed.

_Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much._

Jeff smiles, unwrapping his roll with one hand, holding the book open on his lap with the other. He takes a bite, sighing happily. Nothing will ever be as comforting as Harry Potter, he thinks. Nothing. They're the books that started him reading. They welcomed him in with open arms to a land where Wizards were real, and then guided him on to new kingdoms with new people, new friends when school was sucky, new lives to live and feelings to feel. But even when he was deep in dystopia, or lost in the past, buried in the rubble of the London blitz or running from zombies, Harry Potter was always there to give him a boost when he was low.

His fingers turn battered pages, brushing over creases where pages were once folded to mark his place, over crinkles on the outer covers of his well worn paperback copy. Jeff sips his juice as Harry makes his way into Diagon Alley, leans back against the pillows and smiles as Harry gets sorted into Gryffindor. Pottermore had told Jeff he was a Gryffindor. Jeff had been way more pleased than he'd let on. He's just reached the troll in the bathroom when his phone goes off on his bedside table. He's got two texts, the one that just came through, as well as another that must have come through when he was getting lunch. As he reaches for his phone, it goes off again.

From: Jenny from the shop

Dinner on friday at 8! ill meet you at mikas and we can go from there :) xxxxx

From: Nick

Book club is Friday at 8, at the shop. Hope you can make it!

From: Wessifer

Conferred with the council and we have decided that you need to stay off from practice. We don't want to get sick. Sorry!

Jeff stares at his phone.

To: Wessifer

Have fun climbing the furniture without me. I'll be sleeping. :(

To: Jenny from the shop

Can't make Friday, forgot I had a thing! Can you do Saturday? x

To: Nick

Sounds great! Do you want me to bring anything? x

Jeff realises he's put a kiss on the end of Nick's text a fraction of a second too late. Shit. Shiiiiiiiiit. Jeff pulls the pillow over his head, letting his book slide to the floor. Maybe Nick won't notice it. Maybe Nick won't notice it. Please, God, let Nick not notice it. His phone buzzes once, twice, three times on his bedside table. He ignores it. He ignores it for all of three seconds before grabbing it and opening his messages.

From: Wessifer

You're the only one that does that.

From: Jenny from the shop

Im meant to be at a party on saturday, u can come! pick me up at 8!

She's attached her address. A party. Jeff can do a party. Yeah, he can totally do a party. Probably. The last text is from Nick, and it takes him a minute or so to get up the courage to open it.

From: Nick

Just your good self! :) x

Jeff almost drops the phone.

Nick.

Put.

A.

Kiss.

Nick put a kiss. NICK PUT A KISS. Nickputakiss. Nick... Nick put a kiss. He looks at his phone again to check that he didn't imagine it. Nope. It's still there. That little x, just looking at him. He's grinning all over his face. Jeff practically leaps out of bed and opens his laptop, hitting play on his 'Everything is super-awesome, and nothing gets me down' playlist, before starting to dance around his room, his phone still clutched in his hand. It's dumb, he thinks as he jumps on his bed in time with McFly, that he's this excited about a tiny x on a screen. But he is. He spins three sixty degrees and lands on his ass on the covers.

He lies back on the bed and kicks his feet in the air. He doesn't care that if anyone came in right now he'd look dumb. He doesn't care that they'd know he was skipping class. The Queen of England could walk in right this second and see Jeff rolling around on his bed in a pair of pezzy tracksuit bottoms and he just wouldn't give a single fuck. Because Nick. Put. A. Kiss. Deliberately. He did it on purpose. Probably because Jeff sent him one and he was just being polite but Jeff opts to ignore that. He starts to dance again.

* * *

Jeff knocks on the door of the bookshop nervously. He'd checked the time twice before knocking, making sure it was eight. He hadn't wanted to be early or late, just... on time. He looks down at himself as he waits for someone to come and let him in. Jeff hopes his outfit is okay... he'd gotten changed three times before reminding himself that it _wasn't a date_. Eventually Jeff had settled on jeans and a white t-shirt under a black leather jacket. He's got his bag over his shoulder, his fist wrapped tightly around the strap of it as he knocks again on the door. Nick pushes through the curtain, wiping his hands on a cloth. When he sees Jeff at the door he smiles and hurries over to let him in.

"Bang on time!" Nick says as he opens the door, holding it so that Jeff can come in.

"Hello!" Jeff says, smiling shyly and stepping inside. There's a new display up, he notices. A pyramid of books with a banner at the top that reads 'D.F.T.B.A!'. Jeff smiles wider, glancing at the pile of books while Nick shuts the door. The shop's in the half light of the sun setting and the beam of light from Nick's front room so Jeff can't read any of the authors' names, but he recognises the covers. A plume of smoke rising against a black cover, the gold of a Pulitzer prize award glinting in the light. Red and black spread out over the cover of another, a shiny new hard back book identical to the one Jeff has on a shelf at home. There are others he doesn't recognise: a white one with a triangle constructed from hearts; two next to one another, purple and red, each with a key on them.

"Come on through, you're the first one here." Nick says, leading Jeff through into the back room. Jeff follows him through. "You get your pick of the seats." There's another armchair now, pulled with the first to face the sofa. Jeff picks one of the armchairs and sinks into it.

"So, how are you?" Jeff asks, smiling up at Nick.

"I'm good! The shop was pretty busy yesterday, I think a teacher somewhere must have just set an essay about Moby Dick. I sold all my copies, and all the spark notes." Nick says as he goes over to the kitchen, coming back with a bowl of crisps in one hand and a bowl of nuts in the other. "How are you?"

"I'm good too." Jeff replies, hesitating before blurting out; "I actually had a date Wednesday so..."

Nick looks up from setting the bowls down, smiling slightly. Jeff scans his expression for any signs of... he doesn't even know what he expects to see. Hurt? Jealousy? A confession of undying love playing over Nick's kissable lips? No, none of those. Nick just looks curious.

"A date? Was... were they nice?"

Jeff nods slowly. "Yeah, she was. I'm seeing her again tomorrow, actually..."

"You'll have to let me know how it goes." Nick says, "If you want to, that is..."

"I will." Jeff says, smiling, "I met her here in the shop so... hey, maybe if we get married in the distant future, we can have the ceremony here!" He laughs.

Nick laughs too, sitting on the sofa opposite Jeff.

"So how was -" Nick starts before being cut off by knocking on the front door. "Sorry, I'll just get that." He says, patting Jeff's knee gently before standing up and going out into the shop.

Jeff settles back into the armchair, getting his copy of _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ from his bag and holding it in his lap. He glances around, smiling slightly at how Nick's definitely tried to tidy the room up a little. There are books on the shelves that he'd seen on the floor last time he was here on... Tuesday. Tuesday seems like forever ago to him.

"Sorry we're late!" A voice says out in the shop. "Our baby sitter cancelled! I hope you don't mind that we brought her with us?"

"No, of course it's okay!" Nick says, holding up the bead curtain out of the way as two men; one of them cradling a baby, the other carrying a bulky pink and white spotted hold-all, enter the room.

"Can I put her down upstairs?" The taller of the two men asks Nick, bouncing the baby in his arms gently.

"Of course you can, you can put her in my room." Nick says, smiling.

The taller man takes the hold-all from his... presumably his partner, Jeff thinks, and goes upstairs with the baby. Nick turns back to Jeff, smiling wide.

"Jeff, this is my old friend Blaine." Nick says. "Blaine, this is Jeff."

Blaine smiles wide and leans forward, shaking Jeff's hand. Blaine looks oddly familiar in a way that Jeff can't place. Something about his smile just... He doesn't know what it is.

"Nick tells me you went to Dalton too?" Blaine says, sitting down on the sofa and crossing one leg over the other.

"Um... yeah..." Jeff stutters, shifting in his chair, trying hard not to be jealous. Blaine's an old friend of Nick's. They went to school with each other. They've known each other for years. Oh god.

"Kurt and I went there too." Blaine smiles, tucking a cushion in beside him and leaning into it, wriggling a little. He looks like a big kid with curly hair. "Oh, Kurt's my husband, but you probably guessed that!" He laughs. Jeff smiles back at him. "But how did you two meet?" Blaine asks.

"Oh, um..."

"I want to hear this story!" says Kurt, coming back into the room from the stairs. He sits down next to Blaine. "Hi Jeff, nice to meet you!" Jeff smiles back a little shyly.

"Hi... Well, um, we met here actually. I came in because it was pouring with rain..."

"He was soaked through." Nick chips in from the armchair next to Jeff's.

"Yeah, I was..." Jeff smiles at Nick. "I came in and ended up reading here for like, an hour and a half..."

"After destroying half of my display..."

"I only knocked over a couple of books..."

"I forgot he was here until there was a power cut and he screamed."

"You screamed too!"

Nick laughs, dropping his head back. Jeff smiles shyly, glancing at him and then at Kurt and Blaine. Kurt catches him looking just as he pulls back from whispering something into Blaine's ear. Blaine's smiling all over his face, eyes fixed on Nick. Blaine looks from Nick to Jeff and then at Kurt, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips. Jeff looks away, down at the book still sitting on his lap.

"So, um... that's how we met." Jeff says.

"It's a great story." Blaine says, grinning. "A better story than how I met Nick."

"Wait wait," Kurt interrupts, "If we're going to have story time, I must have wine. I only joined this book club to drink wine, Nick. You know that."

Nick laughs and goes to the kitchen, getting a bottle of red wine from the cupboard. "Of course I do, Kurt. Do you want anything, Mr Designated Driver?" Nick asks Blaine.

"Oh, I'm good." Blaine says, smiling.

"Do you want juice or water, Jeff? Or something else? I've not got any soda at the moment, sorry..."

"Juice is fine, thanks." Jeff says.

"Do you not drink, Jeff?" Kurt asks, taking the proffered glass of wine from Nick as he comes back round. Nick hands Jeff a glass of orange juice and sits back down before pouring himself a glass of wine and putting the half empty bottle on the table.

"Oh, um, I'm not old enough..." Jeff says, glancing at Nick.

Kurt and Blaine both tilt their heads, looking at Jeff curiously.

"How old _are_ you?" Kurt asks slowly.

"I'm seventeen..."

Kurt's eyes widen and he stares at Jeff and then at Nick. Beside him, Blaine's blinks in surprise and looks down, the corners of his mouth twitching like he's trying not to laugh. Kurt stands up quickly, handing his wine glass to Blaine.

"Nick, come and check on Lily with me."

"Okay..." Nick says, standing up and following Kurt up the stairs, glancing back at Jeff and Blaine and mouthing 'Help me!'

Blaine laughs softly, looking up at Jeff and smiling. Jeff feels very very much younger all of a sudden. He'd felt like a grown up with grown ups but now... now he feels like a little kid. He glances at the wine glasses and then at his own glass of juice. He's been kidding himself, Jeff thinks, into thinking that Nick could even slightly reciprocate his feelings. He has a crush and that's it. Nothing more. Nothing more can come of it because he's so much younger than him. Shit.

"We thought you were dating." Blaine says, watching Jeff. "You and Nick."

"What?!" Jeff says in surprise.

"Kurt and I thought you and Nick were dating." Blaine says, starting to laugh. "The way he talked about you, and then we he said you were gonna be here tonight..."

Jeff blinks, smiling. Blaine's actually giggling, his hand over his mouth to try and stifle it, and it's not long before Jeff's laughing too. _The way he talked about you_. Jeff thinks, laughing softly. What had Nick said about him... it must have been good things... it must have, if it had made Blaine and Kurt think... He shakes his head slightly to get those thoughts out of his head. Nick had probably just said he had a new friend and maybe Blaine or Kurt had read too much into it... There's a burst of Nick's laughter from up the stairs, and then he comes back into the room with Kurt shushing him. Kurt drops back onto the sofa next to Blaine, a little pink cheeked.

"He almost woke Lily up." Kurt says, picking up his glass of wine and taking a long drink from it.

Nick sits back down, grinning at Jeff, patting his knee again. Jeff wishes he'd stop doing it. It makes him feel like a kid. But he really hopes Nick does it again. He wants to feel that brief pressure again. Jeff has a sudden flash of Nick's hand resting on his knee, then moving up between his legs and down again. He blushes hard enough that he can feel his skin burning. Jeff takes a sip of his juice to try and distract his mind from the distinctly not-safe-for-book group images and tunes back into the conversation that the others are having.

"I was about to tell the story of how we met, I think, Nick. Unless you want to tell it?" Blaine says, putting his hand over Kurt's where it's resting on his thigh.

"I think I'll tell it." Nick smiles, settling back in the arm chair and taking a sip of his wine before turning to Jeff. "I met Blaine when we were five."

"We were four." Blaine interrupts.

"I think I was five and you were four." Nick says, "It doesn't matter either way. We met, Jeff, in the sandbox. I had a dinosaur and baseball cap, Blaine had a truck and a tiny cardigan. The dinosaur rode in the truck and solved crime the entire day. And that's how we met." Jeff laughs softly. "And then we went to school together until we were twelve, when I went to Dalton and Blaine... didn't. Then, when Blaine..." Nick breaks off, glancing at Blaine for a second. "Then Blaine changed schools and came to Dalton with me."

"So you've known each other forever then?" Jeff asks, smiling, trying not to let the jealousy bubble up inside him again.

"Pretty much." Nick grins. "And, just to complete the circle, I met Kurt the same day Blaine did."

Jeff looks over at Blaine and Kurt. Kurt drains his glass of wine and pours himself another. Blaine gazes at him expectantly.

"Oh fine!" Kurt laughs, leaning into Blaine's shoulder and taking a sip of wine. "I came to Dalton to... well, to spy on their glee club. I was at another school at the time, we were going to be singing against them and... we wanted to see the competition. I met Blaine on the stairs and he just happened to show me the way to an impromptu performance in which he was the lead singer." Kurt smiles up at Blaine. "He seduced me with 'Oops! I did it again."

"Seriously?" Jeff laughs, looking between Kurt and Blaine on the sofa, and Nick in the chair. "You too?"

"Me too." Nick says. "We did the dance from the music video."

Jeff grins. Then something clicks.

"Wait. You were Warblers? I'm a Warbler!" Jeff says excitedly.

"You are?" Nick says.

Jeff nods hard. "Uh huh! I joined in my second year!"

"Do they still do that thing when they give each new member a warbler bird?" Kurt asks, finishing his second glass of wine.

"Um..." Jeff says, thinking. "I didn't get one. I heard they stopped doing that 'cause someone killed one of them like ten years ago..."

There's a moment's silence before Kurt and Blaine burst out laughing. Kurt's pressed his face into Blaine's shoulder to muffle it, and Blaine's giggling like he was before, but it doesn't take long before they're both howling with laughter. Jeff doesn't get it. Dead birds, in his mind, are no laughing matter.

Jeff glances at Nick helplessly but Nick's laughing too. He's very lost. He looks down at the book on his lap. Are they ever going to actually talk about Winston Smith and Airstrip One?

"Sorry!" Blaine gasps out between giggles. Kurt nods beside him, starting to try and calm himself down.

"It's okay..."

"No, it's just..." Blaine starts laughing again.

"You see -" Kurt manages before dissolving into giggles again.

Nick glances at Jeff and notices his discomfort. "Kurt killed that bird..." He says, still laughing slightly.

"What?" Jeff stares at Kurt.

"I didn't kill it! It died!" Kurt says firmly, hitting Blaine's leg when he starts laughing again. "This idiot here and I shared our first kiss over the bird's coffin..."

"His tiny, bedazzled coffin." Nick chips in, grinning.

"Bedazzled?" Jeff asks slowly. "You lot are weird." He says, shaking his head.

"Don't mind us old idiots." Blaine laughs.

"Old? Speak for yourself..." Kurt says, batting at Blaine's chest.

"How old are you?" Jeff asks before he can stop himself. He knows it's rude. He _knows_ it is, but he just has to know.

"We're both twenty-seven." Blaine says, having calmed down from the laughter that, if he's honest, Jeff still doesn't really get.

"Me too." Nick says, emptying the last of the bottle of wine into his glass and sipping it.

Ten years. Oh god, that's a lot. There's ten years between their ages. Jeff's eyes flick to the photo on the bookshelf, the one of Nick in his Dalton Uniform. Jeff was probably barely two years old when that was taken. Oh _god_. Nick looks at Jeff, and then over to where he's staring before catching Jeff's eye. Nick's blushing. At least, Jeff thinks he is. Nick reaches forward and picks his water-damaged, crinkly paged copy of _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ off the coffee table, as well as his wine glass.

"So. Book group. Time to talk about the book." Nick says, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his wine. "I really enjoyed it. I haven't read it in a while and I forgot how good it is, especially when you're not being pushed to analyse the crap out of everything. It made me wonder what I'd do in Winston's situation. If I couldn't have private thoughts or feelings."

"I don't think that's the worst thing about the world that it's set in," Blaine interjects, leaning forward, "I think it'd be worse to live in a world where history is constantly being re-written and changed, where you never know what actually happened."

"But you don't know that it is. You can't think that it's being changed. I mean... You could know that it was, like, like Winston does, you can know that history isn't what it claims it is, that it's being re-worded and re-written all the time, but you'd have to... you'd have to constantly act like you were doing it because the history books had just been written wrong?" Jeff says, looking at the book on his knees, thinking as he talks, tripping a little over his words. "Like there was a mistake, a typo in the books and you're just going in and fixing it because of course the party is right, of course it is, but you know really that they're just changing it to fit. It's... It's doublethink. To know and to not know?" Jeff looks up.

Nick's smiling that smile. The one that makes Jeff's stomach twist and dance. Nick's smiling it for him. Jeff's sure he's blushing, and he can't help but smile back. Nick smiles a little wider before starting to talk about the book again. Jeff allows himself to get lost in Nick's voice, and the knowledge and enthusiasm behind it. This is more like what Jeff had imagined tonight would be. He feels an equal again, even with a mouthful of orange juice. He sort of wishes Nick had asked if he'd wanted wine. But then, Jeff thinks, he would have had to decline. Wine's icky. He doesn't really like alcohol much at all if he's honest, unless it doesn't taste like alcohol. And that, his mother had told him, was when he had to be the most careful.

Nick and Blaine are talking animatedly about dystopia in general now, and Jeff sinks back into his chair. Across from him, Kurt catches his eye and smiles, rolling his eyes and nodding toward Blaine. Jeff laughs, grateful to be included again. He likes Kurt and Blaine. They seem nice. Upstairs in the bedroom, their baby starts to cry, and Blaine and Nick stop talking. All four of them look up at the ceiling.

"I'll get her." Blaine says, glancing at his watch. "That's probably our cue to get moving, actually, Nick."

"That's okay!" Nick says.

Blaine pushes himself up out of the sofa and passes past Jeff to go up the stairs. The crying stops a few moments later. Kurt's standing up too, gathering up his and Blaine's jackets.

"Sorry we've cut this short." Kurt apologises as he slips his coat on.

"It's fine, honestly."

Blaine comes back down the stairs with the baby in her car-seat, and the hold-all over his arm. "I think she just wants to be in her cot..." Blaine says, looking down at her kicking feet. Jeff looks curiously at her, waggling his fingers when she's looking. She stares at him with big, blue eyes. And then starts crying again. Jeff pouts at her, but it doesn't seem to help. Kurt takes Lily and the bag while Blaine puts his coat on, and then Nick leads them out into the shop and to the front door, leaving Jeff alone in the room. He glances at his watch and realises with a jolt that he too needs to head back for Dalton before he gets locked out. He pushes his copy of _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ into his bag and grabs the rest of his stuff.

Jeff looks up toward the shop before reaching for Nick's half full wine glass and taking a sip. He makes a face, putting it down again. Icky. Definitely not a wine fan. The front door slams and Jeff pulls his bag over his shoulder, standing a little awkwardly. Nick comes back in, the smile on his face falling a little when he sees Jeff waiting in the middle of the room.

"Are you off too?" He asks.

"Yeah, I need to get back before they shut the gates."

"Ah yes, curfew." Nick laughs, "You best get off."

The two of them walk to the front door and Nick opens it, holding it so that Jeff can step out into the chilly night air. "I'm sure I'll see you again before it's decided, but if I don't, I'll text you the book for next month's meeting." Nick says.

"Oh, thanks!" Jeff pulls his jacket around him, "Um, see you soon!"

"See you soon, Jeff." Nick says.

Jeff waves and turns away, starting to walk quickly back to school. He really likes when Nick uses his name. Like, a lot. He grins to himself. Tonight had been fun.

And tomorrow.

Tomorrow he has a date. A _second_ date, no less. It doesn't really matter that he's not that interested in her, a date is a date, he thinks. A date is a date.

* * *

"I think you should wear white." Trent says from the bed, sprawled out behind Wes and David.

"I wore white last time I saw her..." Jeff says, gazing into his wardrobe hopelessly.

"What about..." David starts, glancing at Wes for help.

"You have that blue button-down that's nice..." Wes suggests, sitting up. "Maybe with one of those dumb ties you like so much."

"Ooh, that's a good idea!" Jeff grins, pulling out a turquoise short sleeve button down shirt from the wardrobe and slipping it on, leaving the top two buttons un-done. "What tie?" He asks, turning around to look at them.

David's gazing at Wes, Wes is looking at his phone, and Trent's doing his hair in a little handheld mirror. They're no help, Jeff thinks, turning back to his mirror and picking out a pink and black striped tie. Yeah, he thinks. That'll do. He grabs his leather jacket and pulls it on over the top before turning back to the boys on his bed.

"How do I look?"

"Bit eighties." Wes says.

"But that's not a bad thing." adds David.

Trent just shrugs. "You look good in white."

Jeff rolls his eyes at Trent and turns to the other two. "You really think it's okay?" They both nod. "Okay good." Jeff says, pocketing his phone. "Now I have to go and you have to get out of my room." The three of them get up reluctantly and file out, Jeff following behind. He locks his door and puts his keys in his other pocket. "I'll text you when I know when I'll be back, if it's after curfew one of you'll have to come and let me in, okay?"

"I'll do it." Trent says, "I'm the only one out of the three of us you can really trust with that."

Wes and David look scandalised.

"Right. Bye!" Jeff says, turning and heading off down the corridor, putting his headphones in as he walks. He's halfway through the first track on his 'Let's Get Ready to Party' playlist by the time he gets out of Dalton. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the address Jenny had sent him before starting to walk, trying hard not to bop his head along to the music. Trent always tells him off for that. Jeff hopes tonight'll be fun. He's still a little nervous about going to a house party. He's never been to one before. Jeff looks up at the sky. Clouds are gathering. He hopes it doesn't rain when he has to walk back. _If_ he has to walk back. Maybe he'll get lucky. Yeah right. Jeff reaches Jenny's house and knocks tentatively at the door. It takes a few seconds but then he hears footsteps and the door opens.

"Bye Mom! Bye Dad! See you tomorrow!" She yells as she steps outside and shuts the door. "Hi Jeff! Nice tie."

"Hi, and thanks." Jeff says, smiling. "Um... What did you mean see you tomorrow?" He asks.

"Oh," Jenny starts off down the street, Jeff hurrying to keep up. "Beanie always lets us crash at hers for parties, you can stay over too, she won't mind. I bet your school has a dumb curfew like ours does for people who board."

"Yeah, we do." Jeff nods, getting out his phone to text Trent. "If it's cool to stay over then..."

"Yeah, it will be." Jenny says, grinning. "It's not far. Beanie's parties are legendary, like, her parents let her have parties all the time and her older brothers always get booze for them."

Jeff looks up from where he's texting. Booze. All his worst fears about house parties might be about to come true. As they round a corner Jeff can already hear the music and talking coming from one of the houses. There are a few people talking and smoking in the front yard but they don't even look up as Jeff and Jenny walk up the path to the front door. Jenny rings the doorbell, grinning at Jeff excitedly. Jeff smiles back.

The front door opens and Jenny throws her arms around the girl standing there. Jeff vaguely recognises her as one of the girls from the coffee shop the other day. Jenny pulls back, beaming.

"Jeff, this is Beanie, Beanie this is Jeff."

"Hi Beanie. Thanks for letting me come tonight." Jeff says, smiling slightly.

"Ugh, he's cute." Beanie says to Jenny before hugging Jeff tightly. "Hi Jeff."

Jeff hugs back awkwardly, relieved when Beanie pulls back. Her bracelets dug into his back. Jenny leads the way into the house, and then straight through to the kitchen where there's a table laden with bottles of beer and alcopops, as well as a clear glass bowl of what Jeff guesses must be punch. Jenny opens a beer and hands it to Jeff, before getting herself a bright pink bottle of whatever the alcopops are and swigging it. Jeff sips his beer. Yuk. Jeff doesn't like beer. But Jenny's watching, so he smiles at her and takes a long swig, trying not to gag. Totally gross. Jenny takes his hand and pulls him off to the living room. Music's blaring. People are dancing. Jeff and Jenny dance too.

Jeff can dance. He knows routines and can flip and jump off furniture. He's kinda good at sexy dancing. But those are all with boys and all pre-rehearsed. This... this he isn't so great at. Jenny's dancing really close to him, occasionally swigging from the bottle in her hand. Jeff dances in time with her, but it feels a little weird. Jenny grins at him when the track ends, and Jeff's about to ask if they can go hang out somewhere quiet when the music starts again.

"I love this song!" Jenny screams, turning and running to Beanie. The two of them jump up and down, starting to sing loudly. Jeff stands awkwardly on the edge of the group of people dancing before slipping off to the kitchen. He realises he's finished his beer, and helps himself to a full cup of the punch. It's blue. Almost a cliché, Jeff thinks. But it tastes good. It doesn't taste of alcohol, at first, but it hits him after and his throat burns a little. Jeff takes another sip and wanders back to the living room. Jenny and Beanie are still dancing together, as well as with a couple of guys. Jeff sits down heavily on the arm of the sofa and tries not to stare. He doesn't really feel jealous. He finishes his drink. Jeff checks his phone. They've been here an hour already. Trent's text him to say to have fun and to get home safe in the morning. He flicks idly through instagram and Facebook but there's nothing new. He checks twitter. Nope. Nothing. He decides to get another drink.

Two drinks and what feels like an eternity later and Jeff's outside, sitting in one of the lawn chairs. He feels weird. He thinks the punch is stronger than he'd originally suspected. He wishes he wasn't here. Jenny's still inside. Probably still dancing with those boys. Jeff doesn't even feel jealous. He's just kind of sad. He kind of wishes he could dance with some boys. He laughs softly. Dance with boys is all he ever does. He's tempted to text Nick. Just to say hi. Just to pass the time. But it's late already, past 12 and Jeff doesn't know if Nick's even home. He might be out. He might have a boyfriend. He might be out with the boyfriend that he might have. Jeff finishes the cup of punch in his hand and stands up. He wobbles a little.

Back in the living room, Jenny and Beanie are arms around each other singing to some pop-ballad. Jeff pads over, smiling.

"Jeff!" Jenny says, putting an arm around him. "Oh, Jeff, where did you go? I was gonna come get you!"

"I forgot you were here at all." Beanie says stoutly, swaying on her feet.

They're drunker than he is, Jeff realises.

"Let's get another drink!" Jenny cries, pulling Jeff away to the kitchen.

Before Jeff can say anything, she's opened a beer and an alcopop. The beer fizzes over when she passes it to him, splattering his shirt and his shoes. Jenny giggles, taking his hand, swinging it between them.

"Let's go outside." She says slowly.

Jenny leads him outside. The two of them stand awkwardly, gazing at each other. Almost simultaneously they both take a sip from their bottles and laugh, embarrassed. Jeff manages to hide his grimace at the taste of the beer. His tongue feels fuzzy still from the sweetness of the punch. Jenny steps forward, pressing her lips to Jeff's.

This is it.

This is Jeff's first kiss.

Her tongue's in his mouth.

It just tastes like... it doesn't really taste of anything except what tongues taste like. Jeff's a little disappointed. He thought kisses tasted of things. They do in books and on the internet. Of chocolate or coffee. At best, this tastes like boozy breath. Jenny's hands are in his hair but his hands are still by his sides. No, wait. They're on her hips. When did that happen, Jeff wonders?

Jeff pulls away.

"Jenny -"

Jenny's kissing him again. No, Jeff thinks. No, he doesn't like this very much at all. He pulls away.

"Jenny, stop it..."

Jenny pushes forward but Jeff holds her away.

"Don't you wanna kiss me?" She asks a little sadly.

"I think I'm gay."

Jeff says it before he can stop himself. It doesn't feel right. Gay. It doesn't sit right in his head. It makes him feel weird in his stomach but Jenny's staring at him, her mouth open.

"Are you telling me that I made you _gay_?!" She whispers loudly.

"What? No!" Jeff stutters, "I... what?"

"Ugh... I kissed a gay guy." Jenny takes a step back, wrinkling her nose up like he's something disgusting. "I should have known you were gay when you said you liked my top."

Jeff blinks. He's so confused.

"What?" He asks again.

"You better get outta here." Jenny says, folding her arms. "Beanie'll be pissed when she finds out I brought a fag to her house."

Jeff gapes at her before taking a couple of steps forward, making to move past her. Jenny shoulders him hard enough to make him stumble, but then he's through the house and out of the door as fast as he can. He has no idea what to do. It's the middle of the night. Dalton's locked. Trent's asleep. David and Wes are asleep. He can't get in. He can't get back in to Dalton. Jeff stops around the corner from Beanie's house. Behind him there's the sound of music, and then, faintly; 'He was _what_?!' Jeff takes off running.

It's only when he stumbles and falls that he realises that no one's chasing him. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know where to go. It's the middle of the night. It's starting to rain and Jeff pulls his jacket closer around him. His hands sting from where they hit the pavement. He just wants to go to sleep. That's all he wants. He wants his mum. He wants his dad. He wants... he wants Nick.

Nick.

Jeff turns, getting his bearings before setting off at a run toward Nick's shop.

By the time Jeff gets there, it's pouring with rain. There's a light on in the upstairs window, above the shop, and Jeff thanks whatever Gods might be listening. He runs to the front door, banging on it. Nick doesn't come. Jeff bangs again, and again.

"Nick!" Jeff yells, voice cracking as he starts to cry "Nick please... please, it's Jeff, please let me in..." Behind him there's a thump and Jeff turns to see a book lying on the wet pavement. He walks over to it, carefully picking it up.

"Jeff! What're you doing here?"

Jeff turns to look up at the window. Nick's leaning out of it, blinking the rain out of his eyes. Jeff meets his gaze.

"You dropped a book." Jeff says softly, holding it up toward Nick.

"Are you drunk?" Nick asks, before shaking his head. "Look, stay there, I'm gonna come down." He pulls the window shut as he goes back inside.

Jeff looks at the book in his hand. It's the one from the poster in Nick's front room. _A Little Love Song_. Jeff starts crying again. Somehow, Nick's arm is around him suddenly, helping him inside, easing him through the shop to the back room and sitting him down on the sofa. Nick's hand is on his knee.

"Jeff, what happened? Are you okay?"

"She took me to a party but the party was bad and... and then..." Jeff sobs, "and I was lonely 'cause she was dancing with other people so I drank some blue drink and then she came back and she kissed me but I didn't... I didn't like it..."

Nick's eyes widen. "She didn't force you to do anything, did she?"

Jeff shakes his head, scrubbing violently at his eyes. "She said didn't I wanna kiss her and I said that I was... I was gay... and she said... she called me a fag and she told me to leave and I was scared..." Jeff looks up, meeting Nick's eyes again. "I was really really scared and I came here and I don't know if I even am gay, Nick, I might just not like Jenny because it turns out she's not nice at all, but I've never even kissed a boy. That was my first kiss and then she told me to leave and... and..." Jeff sobs harder.

Nick puts his hand on Jeff's shoulder. He's saying something, something about labels but Jeff's not listening. He's crying. Crying and trying to stop and Nick's lips look really good.

"Can I kiss you?" Jeff barely knows he's said it until it's too late.

"What?" Nick says in surprise.

"To make sure. If I like boys." Jeff says.

"Jeff, we barely know each other and I'm a lot older than you. I don't know if that's a good -"

Jeff kisses him. He knows he shouldn't have. But he does.

Nick kisses back.


	4. Four - In Which Jeff Makes a Decision

Nick kisses back, but only for a moment. His lips are soft, firm against Jeff's, and closed, so very different from the kiss Jeff had shared with Jenny barely an hour ago. Nick's lips part slightly as he pulls away, just a flick of his tongue against Jeff's mouth. Jeff opens his eyes, gazing at Nick. Nick looks back at him, a little surprised. The room around Jeff spins and sways slightly, so he concentrates on Nick. On Nick's eyes and his nose and his lovely face and his perfect lips that Jeff had kissed. Jeff liked the kiss. Jeff wants to kiss him again. Jeff leans forward, his hand on Nick's knee to support himself, but then Nick's hand is firmly on his shoulder, easing him gently away.

"Jeff..." Nick starts, and then stops, looking at Jeff in concern. Jeff blinks hazily at him. The room isn't swaying, Jeff realises, _he_ is.

"I think I'm gonna throw up..."

"Whoa, okay..." Nick says, standing hurriedly and helping Jeff to his feet. Jeff leans his weight into Nick. Nick's arm around his shoulders grounds him and guides him up the narrow stairs and into Nick's bathroom. They only just make it before Jeff's on his knees in front of the toilet, violently throwing up into it. Nick's hand moves up and down Jeff's spine slowly, soothing even through the leather of his jacket. Jeff heaves again, body arching up before slumping forward. Jeff finds himself hugging the bowl of the toilet. It feels dumb. He feels like he's in a movie. Not a good one. A dumb one. Jeff doesn't even know. Jeff rests his head on the side of the toilet seat, gazing into the water. He notes, with some delight, that his puke is bright blue.

"Punch." He says slowly, before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

* * *

Jeff opens his eyes for a fraction of a second. Too bright, he decides, closing them again and rolling over. He nuzzles his face into his pillow, frowning slightly. This isn't his pillow. It's too soft, it doesn't smell right. Jeff opens his eyes again slowly. The pillow is blue. His pillow at Dalton is not blue. This, Jeff thinks, is definitely not his pillow. He rolls reluctantly onto his back and sits up, blinking at the room around him. He's in Nick's bed. This is Nick's room. Oh god, Jeff thinks, I'm in Nick's bed. Nick sleeps here. Nick dreams here. Nick probably jerks off here. Jeff closes his eyes, trying not to imagine Nick jerking off, giving his brain a chance to stop throbbing and catch up with what's going on. Jeff sits with his eyes closed for at least a minute, listening.

He can hear someone - presumably Nick - moving around downstairs. There are dishes clattering in the sink and faint music and Jeff's heart suddenly _hurts_ with how at home he feels. How comfortable and nice this is. Jeff opens his eyes and actually looks at Nick's room now that the sunlight through the blind has faded enough that he doesn't feel like punching it. Not that he'd be able to punch it. It's sunlight. The walls of Nick's room are painted sky blue, although they're half hidden behind shelves and shelves of books. There's a wardrobe with photos stuck to the front of it, snapshots of Nick and friends, a couple with Kurt and Blaine in, one of Nick holding their baby. There's a picture of a family round a table at Christmas, and Jeff supposes Nick must have taken the picture because he's not at the table. Jeff smiles. He feels a little like a creeper, prying at Nick's family photos but... he likes seeing Nick out of context, it's like he's getting to know him more. Jeff rolls over, coming face to face with a note on Nick's little bedside table.

_Good morning! Hope your head doesn't hurt too much - take an aspirin if it does. I've left a towel on the side of the bath if you want to take a shower. I'll be downstairs when you're ready to come down. Nick._

Jeff smiles at Nick's familiar curling handwriting, sitting up a little. There are two aspirin and a glass of water sitting next to the note, and Jeff swallows them down gratefully, gulping the water down. He already feels better now that his mouth doesn't taste like crap. As Jeff moves to set the empty glass down he realises what it had been on top of. It's Nick's notebook. The blue cover is more battered than Jeff remembers, the corners folded and worn, and the spine scuffed. Jeff puts down his glass carefully and picks up the notebook, hesitating before opening it. He frowns.

It isn't the same notebook. It looks the same, but it must be older because this notebook is completely full of writing, mostly poems from how they're laid out on the page. Jeff picks one out at random, starting to read.

'When I was little, I wished my sister's friends were mine.

At the lofty age of fourteen to my eight, they seemed glamorous and perfect,

painting each other's toenails in a square in our living room.

They sunbathed in a line on different coloured towels

that matched their bathing suits,

while I splashed in the sea and hoped for their attention.

I wished my sister's friends were mine when they were sixteen and I was ten,

and they had sleepovers in the den

and talked about boys,

shushing each other when I came to get water in the middle of the night.

They dyed their hair in our bathtub,

leaving streaks of blue,

and pink,

and red,

on our towels.

I wished my sister's friends were mine when I was twelve, and they,

they drank illicitly before the prom,

and snuck in late

and giggled

and slept together in one big pile in her bed, legs tangled,

painted toenails peeping from under covers.

When I was little, I wished my sister's friends were mine.'

Jeff smiles. He turns his head back toward the wardrobe, searching again for the family photo. One of the girls around that table is Nick's sister, Jeff thinks. He wonders which one. They might all be his sisters. Does Nick have a big family, Jeff wonders, or do they just share the holidays with friends like his mum and dad do? Jeff stretches lazily, thinking. His eyes feel gummy and gross. He slept in his clothes. The offered shower sounds really really good, but Jeff doesn't want to outstay his welcome...

Jeff sits up and carefully puts the notebook back on the bedside table, replacing the glass on top of it. He reads the note again. Nick clearly doesn't mind if Jeff showers. Unless he's just being polite. But if he's being polite and Jeff doesn't have a shower, will he be upset? Jeff pushes the covers back and stands up, stretching so tall his back cracks. He needs a shower. Everything from last night is still a bit of a blur, but they might become clearer in the shower, Jeff thinks, that's worked in the past. Jeff turns to make the bed, blinking at the wall above the bed. There's a quote painted in a dark teal on the wall. How Jeff missed it before, he has no idea. He reads it, smiling.

_It is as if a hand has come out and taken yours._

Jeff doesn't recognise it, it doesn't say where it's from, but it's nice. It's very... it's very _Nick_. Jeff thinks. He pulls the sheets up neatly on the bed and plumps the pillows before turning and walking out of the room, down the short corridor and into the bathroom. As he walks past the top of the stairs, Jeff can hear music and Nick singing along quietly. He smiles, going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. There's no lock on the door. No bolt, no lock in the handle. When you live by yourself, Jeff supposes, you don't need a lock. There's a towel over the towel-rail, and a neatly folded t-shirt sitting on top of it. On top of the t-shirt is a post-it note.

_In case you wanted to change!_

Jeff finds himself blushing. Nick left him a t-shirt. It's just a plain grey t-shirt but... Jeff smiles to himself. Nick had been thinking of him. Jeff glances at the unlockable door before stripping off and climbing into the tub. He turns the shower on and steps back as the cold water sprays out. Jeff extends his arm, sticking his hand into the water, shivering at the other end of the bath as he waits for it to heat up. Finally it starts to warm his hand and Jeff ducks forward into the water. He sighs, head bowed, letting the water cascade down his back. Oh, he's so glad he decided to shower. Nick's shower is ten million times better than the ones at Dalton that barely push the water out at all. Jeff's convinced they work through gravity alone. Nick's shower is glorious. Hot and steamy and glorious.

Jeff blinks the water from his eyes and reaches for the bottle of shower gel sitting on the tub edge. He pours a little into his hands and rubs them together before starting to work a lather up on his chest and down his stomach. Jeff smiles, rubbing the bubbles over his shoulders, massaging them gently. This is what the pillow had smelt like. The whole bed smelt of it. This shower gel. It's just... it's lovely. It smells like warmth and safety. Jeff tips his head back, rinsing off his skin, arms hanging loose by his sides. He feels so much better. So much more awake. His head throbs a little and his mouth feels gunky again, and he still doesn't really know what happened last night after he got here, but other than that...

Jeff picks up the bottle of shower gel, reading the label. 'Olive Branch'. It's from Lush. Jeff sets it down carefully. All of Nick's bath products are from Lush. The shampoo's called 'Fair Trade Honey'. Jeff squeezes a blob into his hand and rubs it through his hair. It's sticky on his fingers and it smells amazing. He scrubs it into bubbles through his hair and rinses it off, eager to try whatever Nick's conditioner is. 'Happy happy joy joy' reads the label. Jeff laughs softly, massaging a little through his hair and stepping out of the water to let it sit. After a couple of minutes, Jeff rinses and shuts the water off, feeling a little guilty about how long he was in the shower and how much of Nick's hot water he used up.

Jeff shifts the t-shirt out of the way and dries himself off quickly, pausing to press his nose into the crook of his elbow and breath in. He smells like Nick. It's... he likes it. He's definitely not going to buy that shower gel the next time he goes to the mall. Not at all. Probably not. Maybe. Jeff rubs his hair with the towel before pulling his pants and jeans back on, hesitating for a moment before sliding the grey t-shirt over his head. Jeff sits on the edge of the tub and dries off his toes before putting his socks on and hanging the towel back on the rail. Jeff gathers his blue shirt into his arms, looking down at it. There's a mark on the front of it, like Jeff had spilt something on it.

Jeff's eyes widen and he spins around to face the toilet. Oh god. Oh no. He... He threw up. He threw up in front of Nick. He threw up a _lot_. And it was _blue_. Oh god. Jeff wants to run away. But he can't. He has to go downstairs and face Nick and thank him for the shirt and the bed and looking after him oh and hey thanks for letting me vom everywhere in your toilet and hey also what else did I do and... wasn't I wearing a tie? Jeff blinks. He had been wearing a tie last night. He has no idea where it is now. Did he leave it at Jenny's?

Oh god, Jenny. Turns out she wasn't so awesome. Jeff frowns, opening the bathroom door. He's still not sure about the whole... gay thing. He hasn't even kissed a guy, Jeff thinks, padding down the stairs, how does he even know. Maybe Trent'd help him out. No, that's weird. Jeff steps out into the living room, smiling at the sight of Nick sitting on the sofa.

There's music still playing from the speakers on the windowsill, Nick's iPod sitting in the dock. It's soft, acoustic, filling the room. Jeff stands and takes a minute to himself, listening to the lyrics.

_I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful like you._

Jeff gazes at Nick, reading, peaceful, and his heart feels like it swells in his chest.

"Hi..." Jeff says.

Nick looks up from his book, scrambling up onto his feet. He's wearing grey shorts and a Ravenclaw quidditch t-shirt. Jeff smiles and blushes.

"Good morning." Nick says, smiling at Jeff. "How did you sleep?"

Jeff nods, glancing at the pillow and blanket sitting on the arm chair in the corner. "I... I slept okay... Thank you for... letting me shower and stuff..." Jeff says. "I hope I didn't put you out too much..."

Nick shakes his head, smiling and setting his book down. "It's okay, you definitely needed the bed more than I did last night." Nick says. "Do you want something to eat? I have a good hangover breakfast, if you're interested."

"Uh, sure." Jeff looks around, still holding his shirt awkwardly. "Do you know where my tie went?" Jeff asks.

"Oh, yeah, it's with your jacket." Nick points to the other armchair, the jacket and tie draped over a pile of books. "I took it off you last night when after you passed out." He finishes, going into the kitchen and starting to cut slices off a loaf of bread.

Jeff blushes hard. He'd passed out. He's such an _ass_. He puts his shirt on top of the pile, wrinkling his nose at the stain on the front.

"I'm... I'msorryIthrewup" Jeff blurts, "I'm... I'm sorry I turned up here in the middle of the night, drunk, and then threw up and passed out."

Nick, much to Jeff's surprise, laughs.

"It's okay. You were upset. Rightfully so, I think. What I don't get, Jeff, is why you came here and didn't just go back to Dalton." Nick says, gesturing for Jeff to sit down. "I mean, I'm not angry or anything, you didn't wake me up, I was up anyway but..." Nick shrugs, coming round and setting a plate on the table in front of Jeff.

"I... I don't really know either. I... I don't remember much after getting here, to be honest." Jeff admits, picking up the sandwich from the plate. It's cucumber on toasted bread and it's just... it's hot and cold and salty and refreshing at the same time and it's exactly what Jeff needed. Jeff glances at Nick as he chews. Nick's looking at him with a strange look on his face. Jeff swallows. "... What?"

Nick gazes at Jeff for a second, then wets his lips before speaking.

"You... You were panicking, last night. About being gay, or just... about your sexuality generally." Nick says. "You were really upset, and I... I said that you don't have to be either. You don't have to be gay, or straight, or bi, you can just be you." Jeff blushes, putting his mostly finished sandwich down. "And then... You kissed me. We kissed."

Any feeling of comfort Jeff had, the fuzzy happies that had settled in his stomach during his shower, vanish. Jeff stares at Nick. He remembers now. He remembers kissing Nick. He remembers Nick's lips. He remembers how nice it'd felt. Jeff stares at Nick. He stares at Nick's lips. His lips have touched those lips. Those soft, warm lips on his. Nick must sense how awkward he's feeling and sits down next to him, putting his hand on Jeff's knee. This time, it isn't comforting at all, it just makes him squirm away slightly.

"I just want you to know, Jeff, that I... I don't mind. Obviously you shouldn't go around just kissing people because it's... it's not... you just shouldn't do it." Nick says. Jeff nods silently. "But you were upset, and kinda drunk, and it's okay. I understand why you did it."

Jeff feels a little sick. He kissed Nick and then he threw up and passed out and oh god what kind of person _does that_? Jeff doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to do. Somewhere, something buzzes. For a second, Jeff thinks it's his blood pounding in his ears before he realises it's his phone.

"My... my phone..." Jeff stutters, scrambling up and going to his jacket. The call stops just as he gets to his phone. He's got three missed calls from Trent, as well as seven texts.

From: Trent

Good morning! Hope you're not too hungover. When are you coming back?

From: Trent

Wes wants to know if you got past first base. I told him not to be gross. Are you coming back soon?

From: Trent

Jeff, I'm a bit worried because you're not replying to my texts and I don't know where you are.

From: Trent

Jeff, where are you? It's been ages and I'm worried.

From: Trent

I'm going to call you. You better not be sleeping.

From: Trent

Why didn't you pick up? Are you dead?

From: Trent

Jeff I'm really worried please don't be dead

It's half past one in the afternoon, Jeff realises with a jolt. No wonder Trent's worried. He turns quickly, gathering up his stuff.

"I need to go." He blurts out to Nick, "Thank you for..." Jeff trails off, gesturing with his hands. "looking after me... for everything..." He turns out hurries out of the shop, carrying his jacket and shirt awkwardly in his arms. His phone buzzes impatiently and he answers it hurriedly, relief flooding through his body at the sound of Trent's voice.

"Jeff! Oh thank god, you're not dead!" Trent gushes, "I was so worried, where are you, why didn't you pick up or text?"

"I'm on my way home. Can I talk to you when I get in? Just you, not Wes or David?"

"Um, of course, Jeffy, just come to my room when you get here..." Trent replies, the concern in his voice practically palpable. "How long will you be? Do you want me to get anything to eat for you?"

Jeff smiles fondly. "I'm okay, Trent. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Okay..."

"Bye..."

"Bye, Jeffy."

Jeff hangs up the phone and stuffs it into his pocket. This time yesterday he was excited about his party with Jenny. And now... now he's walking home from Nick's having practically assaulted him, thrown up, forced him out of his bed, woken him up... Jeff sighs and walks a little faster. But he didn't wake Nick up, a little voice in his head reminds him, and you didn't force him out, he could have left you to sleep on the sofa, and he left you a shirt and let you shower, and he didn't have to do any of that... Jeff shakes his head. He's so confused. He's going to tell Trent everything. Ask his advice. Trent'll help. Jeff smiles. Jeff's glad Trent is his best friend.

Jeff gets to Dalton and goes straight to his room; he dumps his bag and shirt and bed before going to Trent's room. He knocks gently on the door, almost jumping back when Trent opens it immediately.

"Jeff!" Trent throws his arms around Jeff and hugs him tightly before stepping back and looking him up and down. "Where have you _been_?"

Jeff steps past him and goes over to the bed, kicking his shoes off and crawling onto it, leaning on the headboard. "I need to talk to you." He starts, pulling a pillow into his lap and hugging it gently. Trent shuts the door, face full of worry. He comes over to the other end of the bed and sits down, looking at Jeff, chewing on his lip. "How did you know you were gay?" Jeff asks.

Trent tips his head, mouth opening slightly in confusion. "Um... I think I just knew... I've always known, I think." Trent shifts closer to Jeff. "Why? If you don't mind my being curious?" Trent holds up his hand to stop Jeff talking. "And does it have anything to do with whose shirt you're wearing?"

"I.. what?" Jeff blinks, a little bewildered, looking down at Nick's grey shirt. He glances at Trent, then down at his lap. "How'd you know this wasn't my shirt?"

"Jeffy, I've watched you try on every item of clothing you own over the past couple of weeks. Twice. I'd remember if you had a grey t-shirt and you just don't. So please, whose shirt is that?"

"It... It belongs to a friend of mine..." Jeff starts, before sighing heavily. He knew he couldn't keep Nick to himself for forever but... he still doesn't want to share with Trent. Not really. But he should. He needs some help figuring this out and he can't do it by himself. "Last night, when I went to Jenny's..."

Jeff tells Trent about his evening, about the offer to stay over, the blue punch, the beer, Jenny dancing with other guys and then their kiss. Their horrible kiss. Trent gasps and covers his mouth as Jeff tells him what happened next, about telling Jenny he was gay, and what she called him. Trent reaches out and takes Jeff's hand, smiling reassuringly at him. Jeff tells him about running away, and then hesitates. Time to share.

"I ran to this bookshop. I've kinda... made friends with the owner over the past couple of weeks..."

"But... Jeffy, I don't get it, why didn't you call me? I'd have got up and let you in, you know I would have."

Jeff nods. "I know, Trent, but I didn't... I was drunk and scared and I was at the shop before I even thought about it really..." Jeff chews his lip. "I... I've had a crush on Nick - that's the owner of the bookshop - since I met him... At least... I think I have... I mean... he's really nice and good looking and kinda dorky and just..."

"That's his - Nick's shirt?" Trent says, leaning forward. "You stayed the night at this man's house and then you come back wearing his clothes..." Trent smiles slightly. "Jeffy, did you get lucky last night?"

Jeff gapes at him, then starts laughing. There's a tiny part of him that had been so scared Trent was going to laugh, or judge, or mock him for this crush. But then Trent wouldn't have done that anyway. Probably. Trent _is_ laughing, but it's with Jeff. The two of them giggle until Trent finally calms down.

"Seriously, Jeffy, what happened at Nick's? Why _are_ you wearing his shirt?"

"I... He let me in... and I told him what happened at Jenny's... and then... thenIkissedhim..." Jeff mumbles.

"You did what?"

"I kissed him."

It's Trent's turn to stare. "You kissed? You and Nick? You and nice, good looking, kinda dorky Nick?"

"I kissed him, we didn't kiss!" Except he kissed back, a little voice tells Jeff, "And then I threw up everywhere and passed out. When I woke up I was in his bed. He let me shower and then I left." He didn't let you shower, says the little voice, he offered and left you a shirt. And he kissed back. He kissed back.

"Let me get this straight," Trent says, and Jeff watches him warily. He recognises Trent's 'Time-to-deal-the-truth' voice. "You went to this guy's house in the middle of the night, drunk, and he let you in, kissed you, then tucked you up in his bed even after you puked, then gave you a t-shirt to wear?" Jeff nods meekly. "If you're not gonna ask him out, Jeffy, I am, 'cause he sounds perfect."

"I... I can't just ask him out!" Jeff mutters, "I don't even know if I'm gay..."

Trent rolls his eyes. "Jeff. You like this guy. Who. Cares." He shrugs. "Just ask him out! What harm can it do?"

"He's a decade older than us, Trent..."

"Ooh, older man..." Trent smirks, and then smiles at Jeff. "Look, Jeffy, kidding aside, I think Nick likes you back. If you threw up on me, I'd make you sleep on the couch, not put you in bed, and we're best friends."

Jeff laughs softly, fiddling with the hem of Nick's shirt. "You really think so?"

Trent nods. "I really think so." He leans in conspiratorially, "So, was Nick in the bed too?"

Jeff grabs the pillow and swings it at Trent's head, laughing.

* * *

Jeff makes his way back to his room after spending the afternoon with Trent. They'd talked a little more about Nick, and even though Trent had constantly reassured him that Nick was definitely interested in him, Jeff still wasn't sure. After all, what did Trent know? Well, Jeff thinks, for a start, Trent knows he's gay. Jeff doesn't know what he is. Or if he's anything. What if it's just a passing crush like the one he'd had on Daniel Radcliffe? The crush was actually on Harry Potter, Jeff reminds himself, and it had been his first ever crush. He'd been seven years old and the crush had lasted for years, not that he'd ever told anyone. Maybe he should have taken it as a sign, Jeff thinks.

But girls are attractive too, Jeff thinks, unlocking his door and going into his room. He dumps his jacket, shirt, and tie on the floor and pads over to his bed, flopping face down onto it. He feels kinda restless. He could go for a run, but he's very reluctant to take Nick's shirt off. It smells really good. It smells like Nick and Nick's bed and Nick's room. If he goes for a run, he'll have to shower again and he'll lose the warm smell of Nick's shower gel too. He nuzzles his face into the pillow. It's not soft like Nick's. Jeff shakes his head and rolls over. He sits up. Stop thinking about Nick. Stop.

Jeff closes his eyes, letting his head drop onto his hands. Suddenly, all the very very bad feelings that talking to Trent had gotten rid of come rushing back. Guilt, mostly. Guilt for barging into Nick's house. Guilt for throwing up. Crushing crushing guilt for kissing him without knowing if he wanted it. Jeff rubs his eyes. He feels bad for drinking, feels bad for kissing Jenny. For leading her on. Oh god, Jeff thinks, he'd led her on. He'd led her on and asked her out and then run off after they kissed. He's horrible. He's a horrible human being and he doesn't deserve anything. Jeff scrubs over his eyes again, pressing the balls of his palms against his closed eyelids. He stands and tugs Nick's shirt off, throwing it onto the floor and curling up on his side on the bed. He doesn't deserve Nick's shirt. Jeff takes two long, shuddering breaths. Nick likes him. Nick does. He does. Hedoeshedoes. Jeff starts to cry.

Jeff pulls his pillow to him, hugging it tightly. He rubs the tears off his cheeks, whole body trembling as he tries to calm himself down. He presses his hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs. He wants Nick. He wants Nick so badly it hurts and he still doesn't really understand why he wants him this much. He doesn't know why he went there and not back home and to Trent, he doesn't know why he trusts him so much after only knowing him for like, two weeks. Jeff's breathing slows, sobs subsiding until he's just lying on his bed, cheeks wet with tears, cold and shirtless and shivering in the middle of the evening. He feels drained. He's hungry but he doesn't want to eat.

Jeff sits up, setting the pillow back at the head of the bed, turning it over to hide the wet marks from his crying. He's ashamed of himself. Jeff inhales deeply, slowly, counting up to eight before exhaling slowly for eight. He does it again. Then again. No more tears. Not today. Jeff bends and picks up Nick's shirt. He hesitates before pressing it to his nose and breathing in, eyes closing, letting himself float in the calming scent of Nick. Nick's washing powder, Nick's shampoo, his shower gel, his sheets, his warmth, his skin, his care. Nick took care of him when he didn't have to. Nick likes him. Jeff pulls the shirt back on and stands to push off his jeans. He pulls off his socks, wriggling his toes. Jeff goes to the bathroom, brushing his teeth without looking himself in the mirror. He knows his eyes are puffy and red. He doesn't want to see it. He spits, sets his toothbrush back on the side of the sink. He goes back out to the bedroom. He turns off the light and gets into bed, pulling the sheets up around him. It's not really late enough to be in bed, especially considering how late he slept. But his eyelids droop and then close. His breathing evens out. He sleeps, his own arms around his body, his legs drawn up tight.

* * *

Jeff smiles at Nick over the counter. There are two mugs of coffee between them and Jeff can feel the steam on his face and smell the warmth of the cinnamon floating in Nick's mug. Nick smiles wider, slipping his hand onto Jeff's. He leans in and kisses Jeff.

Jeff can feel Nick's lips firmly on his. They're soft, warm. It feels amazing. Nick's lips part, taking Jeff's with them, his tongue brushes Jeff's lip like it did once before. Nick pulls away and Jeff opens his eyes.

He starts and pulls back. It's Trent gazing at him, smiling, not Nick.

"Jeff, that was wonderful..." Trent gushes, leaning in to kiss him again.

Jeff backs off, bumping into the table of books and tripping, falling face down onto the floor.

* * *

Jeff jolts in bed, blinking hard, his heart pounding. Trent, he thinks. _Trent_. Jeff sighs and rubs his face before glancing at his phone. Just as he looks at it, it ticks over to 07:00, and his alarm starts. Jeff turns it off before _Call Me Maybe_ really gets a chance to start and pulls himself out of bed. He considers showering but decides he really can't be bothered, and instead dresses and goes down for breakfast. He doesn't eat much. Half a banana and some toast. His mind drifts. He thinks about Nick. Nick's legs. Nick's lips. Kissing Nick's lips. No. Not kissing Nick's lips. Not kissing Nick's anything. That's bad. Bad bad bad. No more thinking about kissing Nick. It's never going to happen again. It shouldn't have happened in the first place.

"Are you going to eat that?" Trent asks, sitting down opposite Jeff. Jeff stares at him.

"Eat what?" He replies, desperately trying not to think about his dream of kissing Trent. Think of something else. Think of kissing Nick instead. No! Don't think about kissing anyone!

"Your banana." Trent says, his hand already hovering over it where it sits on Jeff's empty plate.

"Help yourself..." Jeff says, smiling as Trent takes it and puts it on his tray with the rest of his breakfast. "I thought you were dieting?"

Trent looks down at his tray. Along with the banana, there's a plate of toast and a big bowl of frosted flakes. "I'm over that now." He tells Jeff. "I'm fabulous as it is, why would I wanna change that?"

Jeff laughs, looking up as Wes and David sit down either side of Trent. They gaze at him expectantly.

"...What?"

"How did your date go?" Wes says, leaning his chin on his hand and looking at Jeff as he starts to eat his cereal.

"What base did you get to? Wes thinks you probably didn't even kiss her, but I said, I said, No, Jeff has game, he'll at least get to second base with her, maybe even third if he's really lucky." David adds.

"Um... I... I did kiss her actually but... but it wasn't very good..."

"And how was your kiss with Mr Bookseller?" David asks casually, looking up from cutting a piece of bacon.

"You told them?!" Jeff glares at Trent. Trent shrugs helplessly.

"I'm sorry, I just - "

"When did you even have time to talk to them?! I was with you all of yesterday!"

"He texted me and told me not to ask about the date." Wes says.

"Me too. So we both went to his room to ask why." David smiles.

"And he just told you?" Jeff looks at Trent. "You just told them?"

"I didn't think it was a huge secret..." Trent says. He looks miserably down at his breakfast and pushes the tray away from him. Jeff feels horrible.

"I... It's not. I'm sorry." Jeff pushes the tray back toward Trent gently, watching him until Trent starts to eat again. Then he looks from Wes to David. "The kiss with Nick was... good. Short. Blurry. Never going to happen again."

"When are we going to meet your new boyfriend then, Jeff?"

Jeff's eyes widen. Wes grins at him with his cheeks full of food, and David waggles his eyebrows. Trent's busy drinking the milk out of the bottom of his cereal bowl. They can never meet Nick. Never. Nick is an adult, a sophisticated adult with books and a shop and nice adult friends with a baby who probably acts more grown up than him and his friends do. No, Jeff decides, they're never going to meet Nick.

"Um... I... have... togonowbye!" Jeff scrambles up and runs off to his English class, leaving Wes and David giggling and Trent looking after him, bewildered.

* * *

English Lit. doesn't serve as much of a distraction from Jeff's constant thoughts of Nick. They're wrapping up Lady Chatterley, and discussions on romance and love are not something Jeff wants to join in with. But Mr Rowling continues to ask questions that Nick's supplied the answers to. And so Jeff answers them. Loses himself in Nick's handwriting and Nick's notes, puzzles over the spiky words written alongside them. Mr Rowling gives them time at the end of the lesson to sit and study, and Jeff flicks idly through the book to the blank pages at the back. Or at least, the pages that should be blank. But in Nick's copy, they're not. There are notes there. Not notes about the book, notes to each other. From Nick to the spiky handwriting. There's a third handwriting too, neat and straight. As Jeff reads, he realises. The spiky handwriting is Blaine. And judging by the smilies and hearts, the neat handwriting is Kurt. Jeff smiles. They're not really passing notes about anything more than the lesson being boring, but it's still fun. It's fun to see what they were like at school. Jeff traces his finger idly over Nick's handwriting.

The bell rings and Jeff walks slowly to French. He takes his seat next to Trent and tries to think about anything but kissing Nick. About how he kissed Nick when Nick didn't want it. He's never going to talk to Nick again, he decides. He'll just have to avoid him forever and not think about him. Nick probably doesn't want to talk to Jeff. He was probably just being nice while Jeff was there and then when Jeff left he probably... he probably rang Blaine and told him how Jeff practically assaulted him. Oh god. He doesn't listen to any of the lesson. His head isn't in the right place. He's just not concentrating at all. When the lesson ends, Jeff gathers up his stuff and all but runs up to his room, slamming and locking the door behind him. Everything had seemed okay when he was talking to Trent. Everything had been fine. Jeff pushes his bag off and flops face forward onto his bed. He can't think about anything but Nick. Jeff rolls over and gazes at the ceiling. When did he become such a... such a lovesick puppy? Jeff asks himself. He saw Nick _yesterday_ for God's sake. He also kissed him yesterday. Jeff covers his face in his hands. Not thinking about Nick _sucks_.

* * *

After Warbler Practice the next day, when Jeff's done bopping, ahhing and jengaing, he flops onto one of the leather sofas to wait for Trent. Trent's talking to the council, trying to persuade them to allow them to dress outside of uniform for a performance. Trent turns around and gestures to Jeff that he'll be five more minutes and Jeff sighs, rolling his eyes. Trent's had this argument with Wes, David, and Thad before. Jeff knows how it's going to end. So he stands and goes over to the display cabinet on the wall, running his eyes over the awards and photos in the case.

He lets his eyes wander over the trophies and photos, reading the captions that he's read eight million times before while waiting for Trent. 'Nationals Winning Performance - 2004' reads one of them. Jeff peers closer at the group of boys on stage in the photograph.

"No way..." he breathes. Trent taps on his shoulder and he turns excitedly. "Trent! Trent, that's Nick!"

"Oh, where?" Trent asks, practically pressing his face against the glass.

Jeff smiles, pointing. Nick's standing stage right, next to a boy Jeff doesn't recognise. He looks so much younger than Jeff knows him, his hair longer, almost over his eyes. Jeff's looked at this picture so many times, but he's never even noticed Nick standing there. He's not centre stage, Jeff thinks, that's probably why. His gaze flicks to the two boys facing each other in the middle of the photo and his mouth drops open.

"That's Blaine and Kurt!" He says in amazement, turning to Trent, "They're Nick's friends, I've met them! They have a baby now!"

"Wait," Trent turns to Jeff slowly, his finger on the glass, pointing at Blaine, "You've met him?"

Jeff nods and smiles. "I thought he looked familiar. I must have recognised him from the photos..."

"Are you telling me that you've met, like, actually met in person, Blaine Anderson, the greatest Warbler this school has ever known?"

"Uh... I... guess so?"

"Oh my God, did he sing for you? Did he?" Trent asks excitedly, grabbing Jeff's arm and dragging him toward the library. "I've seen videos of his performances, oh my God, he's just... dreamy..."

"Um..." Jeff stares at Trent, a little bemused. "He didn't sing, no... We were at a book club so..."

"Book club?" Trent blinks, "How long have you known him again?"

"Um, like... a couple of weeks..." Less than that, Jeff thinks. Twelve days.

"Nick totally likes you." Trent smirks. "I told you. He let you sleep in his bed after two weeks? Totally into you."

Jeff rolls his eyes and pulls Trent into the library. They settle down at the last free table and spread their books out in front of them. Jeff's glad they got a table. The library's big and there are usually plenty of spaces, provided you get there as soon after class as possible. Warbler practice slows them down and more often than not they end up sprawled out on the floor among the stacks. Jeff's also glad of the silence. He closes his eyes and lets himself think. He wants to text Nick. His phone feels heavy in his pocket with how much he wants it. Wants to text and tell Nick he saw the photo, ask what they were singing, tell him about Trent fanboying over Blaine. For the first time in his life, Jeff's glad of the 'no phones' policy in the library. As much as he wants to text Nick, he shouldn't. He can't. Nick hates him, Jeff knows it's true despite what Trent thinks. He just knows it. Jeff snaps himself out of it and focuses on his work. No more thinking about Nick, Jeff scolds himself, no more. He'll find somewhere else to buy books.

* * *

Jeff manages surprisingly successfully to put Nick out of his mind for the next week or so. He throws himself into his classes (even French) and turns up for every Warbler practice (even the optional ones). It isn't until he gets his washing back that Jeff even thinks about Nick. He's just returned from helping Trent revise English, and there it is, sitting on top of the pile of neatly pressed white shirts and grey trousers. Nick's t-shirt. Jeff stares at it. He doesn't remember putting it in the wash, supposes the aide must have picked it up off the floor, or from his bed perhaps. Suddenly, he aches. He misses Nick more than he thought.

That's it, Jeff decides. Tomorrow he'll go see Nick. He'll just give the shirt back, say sorry again for kissing him, and then... Jeff doesn't know what then. He'll take Trent, he thinks, for moral support (and to stop him chickening out.) He grabs the shirt and places it carefully into his bag, along with Nick's copy of Lady Chatterley. He can give them both back at the same time. That way, Jeff thinks, if Nick never wants to see him again, he never has to. Jeff never has to go back to A Likely Story ever again if Nick doesn't want him to. Which he probably won't.

Jeff clears the rest of his washing off his bed and dumps them onto the floor. Tomorrow might be the last time he ever sees Nick again. Jeff pulls of his shirt and trousers and crawls under the covers. Tomorrow might be the last time he ever sees Nick again. He turns the light off and wriggles out of his boxers. Tomorrow might be the last time he ever sees Nick again. If that's the case, Jeff thinks, settling against the pillows and closing his eyes, his hand sliding down his stomach, tonight should be the last time he ever imagines Nick again.


	5. Chapter 5 - In Which Jeff Babysits

Jeff gazes through the window of the door at Nick. He has his head bowed over the counter. Jeff has a coffee in each hand and the book and t shirt in his bag. His heart is pounding in his chest.

"Is that him?" Trent asks, pushing forward. "He _is_ good looking."

"Mhm..." Jeff says distractedly, before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open. Nick looks up at the noise of the door and when he sees Jeff he smiles the biggest smile that Jeff has ever seen anyone smile. Oh thank god, Jeff thinks, he doesn't hate me. He doesn't hate me at all.

Jeff smiles back and almost skips to the counter he's that happy.

"Hi." Nick says, still smiling from ear to ear. "I was worried you were never coming back!"

"I came to give you your stuff back. "Jeff says, continuing quickly when he sees Nick's face fall."And bring you a coffee and just generally see the shop and you and..." He trails off, holding out the coffee cup. Trent clears his throat. "Oh and this is my friend Trent."

Trent smiles and steps forward to shake Nick's hand. "Hello." he says, "Jeff's told me all about you..."

"He has?" Nick asks, glancing at Jeff before taking a careful sip from his coffee. "What's he told you?"

Jeff swallows nervously. Please don't say anything bad, Trent, Jeff pleads in his head, please please please...

"I hear you were a warbler. This is you, isn't it?" Trent asks, reaching into his bag and pulling out the framed photo Jeff had seen in the trophy cabinet. Nick smiles, taking it from him and looking down at it.

"Oh, yes, this is me..." Nick says, grinning fondly down at the photo. "Where did you get this?"

"How did you get it?" Jeff asks, turning to Trent, "The trophy cabinet is locked."

"That's really not important. "Trent says, shooting a glance at Jeff."I was wondering, Nick, if you remembered what you were singing? It's the winning performance from nationals, 2004."

Nick smiles wider, still looking down at the photo. "Oh, I remember. It was 'Can you feel the Love Tonight. You know, from the lion king?" Nick laughs, "It took us weeks to persuade the council to let us do it..." He turns the photo so that Jeff and Trent can see before pointing. "That's me there, obviously. I was Pumba's part, next to me is Sebastian Smythe, he was Timon, and then Nala's and Simba's were parts were sung by Kurt and Blaine respectively..." Nick looks up at Trent, "Do you know about Kurt and Blaine?"

"Oh I know all about Blaine Anderson," Trent gushes, "I was only telling Jeff the other day that he's the most successful warbler Dalton's ever seen!"

Jeff rolls his eyes. Nick catches him doing it and smiles.

"Do you want to know something about Blaine that not many people know, Trent?" Nick asks.

Trent nods.

Nick leans over the counter. "I'll whisper it." He says, and then whispers into Trent's ear. Trent goes bright pink.

"Well, everyone knows _that_" he stammers, still blushing. Jeff frowns curiously. Why does Trent get a secret and not him? Nick only just met Trent. That's not fair.

Jeff steps forward, smiling at Trent. "Why don't you go check out the young adult fiction, Trent?"

"I'm okay," Trent smiles at Nick, then notices Jeff's glare and shrugs "or maybe I will go check those books out..." He turns and hurries over to the bookshelves, leaving Nick and Jeff alone.

"So, I -"

"How're you -"

They both laugh, and Nick gestures for Jeff to talk first.

"I have your book..." Jeff pulls it from his bag and puts it on the counter, smiling. "Thank you so much for the loan... It really helped me out."

Nick grins, laying his hand on Jeff's. "Anything for a friend." He says. The two of them gaze at each other. Nick's hand is warm. Really warm. It feels good. Jeff wants to hold Nick's hand all the time. Actually hold it, although this is pretty good too, he thinks. Jeff realises they've been staring at each other and pulls his hand away a little guiltily.

"And here's your shirt. It got washed at Dalton so it doesn't really smell like you anymore." Jeff says without thinking. Behind him, Trent tries and fails to suppress his giggling. Jeff blushes, pulling the shirt out and thrusting it toward Nick. Nick takes it, smiling amusedly, his fingers brushing Jeff's.

"And what do I smell like?" Nick asks, smiling.

Jeff can't work out what's going on. Is Nick mocking him? No, Nick wouldn't do that, Jeff thinks. Maybe he's teasing. Maybe he's actually curious as to what he smells like. Jeff has no idea how to answer that question.

"Coffee!" He blurts. "Uh... I... Uh... Your coffee's gonna get cold."

Nick smiles, picking up his coffee and sipping it, his eyes on Jeff. "It's perfect." He says.

Trent comes back up to the counter, setting some vampire pulp novel on it.

"This please." Trent says, taking the photo from before and sliding it back into his bag. "And then me and Jeff need to go back to Dalton"

This please. "Trent says, taking the photo from before and sliding it back into his bag."And then Jeff and I need to go back to Dalton. "

"I don't need to go back right away..." Says Jeff hopefully. He does. They both do. They'd planned to do it when they knew they couldn't stay long just in case Nick hadn't been so nice. They'd planned an escape that Jeff now wishes didn't exist. Damn Trent and his forward thinking. Trent pays and puts the book in his bag.

"Goodbye Nick, it was nice to finally meet you." Trent says, before glancing at Jeff and starting toward the door. "I'll meet you outside."

Jeff watches him go before turning to Nick. "Sorry we can't stay longer, we have class..." He apologises, picking up his coffee.

"That's okay, I'm just glad you came by. I was beginning I worry I'd upset you..." Nick says, gazing at Jeff.

"I thought I upset you!" Jeff exclaims, "I thought you wouldn't want to see me ever again..."

Nick frowns in confusion. "I'll always want to see you." He starts, and there's a long pause before he speaks again. "You're my friend after all."

Trent knocks on the window and points at his watch, interrupting any sort of reply Jeff might have been able to come up with. Which is none. No replies. Nothing but the certain knowledge that Nick thinks of him as a friend and nothing more. But, Jeff thinks, he can live with that. He can live with being Nick's friend that Nick'll always want to see. And so he says goodbye to Nick and hurries out of the door and back to Dalton.

He seems nice." Trent says, glancing at Jeff as they walk. "He seems kinda..."

"Kinda what?" Jeff asks as his phone buzzes in his pocket.

"Kinda..." Trent starts again but Jeff isn't really paying attention. He's too busy reading the text Nick just sent him.

From: Nick  
_Will I see you tomorrow? X__  
_  
Jeff smiles, taking pleasure in that tiny little kiss. A kiss from a friend, but a kiss none the less.

To: Nick  
_I hope so! X__  
_  
From: Nick  
_Good, I'm baking and need a test subject ;)__  
_  
Jeff positively beams at the wink face, tucking his phone back into his pocket and looking at Trent. Trent's grinning at him.

"What were you saying, Trent? Nick's kinda..."

"Forget kinda, he is so into you." Trent laughs, "You just left and he's already texting you to get you back, and you're not even dating!"

Jeff blushes and hits Trent's arm lightly. "He's my friend. We're friends!"

"We're friends, Jeffy, and I never text you back to my room mere moments after you've left!" Jeff stops and raises his eyebrow. "Okay, so I've done it a few times, but he definitely likes you!"

* * *

"Closed for stock check. We are sorry for any inconvenience caused. Open again tomorrow" Jeff reads aloud. He knocks lightly on the door. Maybe Nick had forgotten he was coming over. Maybe he had decided to do the stock check thinking he'd be done by the time Jeff came over to bake and he wasn't. Jeff is a little early; Wes and David had dropped him off on their way to the barbers. Why they will only get their hair cut together Jeff will never understand. Nick pokes his head through the beaded curtain and smiles, stepping out into the shop and coming over to let Jeff in. Jeff tries to hide his smile. Nick's wearing an apron covered in cartoon cupcakes with pink and purple frosting on them. The apron and parts of Nick's shorts are dusted with what Jeff assumes is flour.

"You do your stock checks very strangely." Jeff says as he follows Nick through into his living room.

"It's code. I do it a few times a year. Sometimes I do a real stock check too..."

Nick's kitchen counters are dotted with bowls and there's a plate of cookies sitting on the coffee table. Jeff puts his bag down by the sofa and sits down.

"Coffee?" Nick asks, "Help yourself, by the way, I'll only eat them all myself if you don't."

"Yes please," Jeff says as he bites into a cookie. It's soft and chewy and has m&ms baked into it. Jeff finishes it and takes another as Nick brings him his coffee. There's a doughy thumb print over the blue and white stripes of the ceramic and Jeff smiles as he takes a careful sip.

"How are the cookies?" Nick asks, his back to Jeff as he mixes dough in the kitchen.

"Delicious." Jeff grins, dunking his second one into his mug. "I like your apron, by the way..."

"Oh, me too!" Nick turns, smiling wide, then pursing his lips when he sees Jeff's smirk. "Oh, you're joking."

Jeff sticks his tongue out. Nick sticks his out back, before laughing and leaning against the counter, resting the bowl against his stomach as he stirs.

"It was a present from my sister." Nick says. "I baked everyone cookies one Christmas because they said they were fed up with books. I got this on my birthday as a joke. Of course I decided to wear it every single chance I get." He laughs.

Jeff thinks back to the photo in Nick's room, and the poem. He takes a bite of his cookie to give himself time to think before asking, "Do you just have the one sister or..." He trails off, crunching down on an m&m.

"I have five," Nick says, "and they're all older than I am." He turns back to the counter and starts to carefully measure out flour into the mixing bowl he'd been stirring. As Jeff watches Nick starts to mix it in. They lapse into silence, Jeff quietly chewing his cookie (and then starting on a third one) and Nick occasionally adding another ingredient to his cake batter. Jeff takes his opportunity to gaze openly at Nick's ass, biting his lip as he realises Nick's wiggling slightly with the force of his mixing. He takes another bite of his cookie, looking up guiltily when Nick turns around suddenly.

"You need to try this for me." Nick states, coming over and holding the wooden spoon out, a glob of batter on the end. "Does it need more lemon?"

Jeff leans forward and eats the batter, licking his lips. "Uh... it could be more lemony?" He says uncertainly.

Nick dips his finger in and sucks it thoughtfully. Jeff swallows, trying not to fixate on how Nick's lips are currently wrapped around his finger, or how his cheeks are hollowing out as he sucks, or how he wishes they were around his cock right now. Jeff shifts in his seat, taking a sip of lukewarm coffee.

"I think you're right." Nick nods, going back to the counter. They slip back into silence. Jeff finishes his coffee and searches for something to say while Nick starts doling out the batter into cake cases.

"So... five older sisters?"

"Huh?" Nick glances at Jeff, "Oh! Yeah, I'm the littlest of the family."

"Littlest..." Jeff giggles, looking down.

"We can't all be tall trees like you, Jeff."

Jeff explodes into laughter, rocking back into the sofa with the force of it. "T-tall... tall trees!" He splutters, already starting to cry with how funny it is to him. "Oh my god!" Nick folds his arms, smiling in amusement at Jeff. "Oh my god, it's like –" Jeff bursts into giggles, "It's like you're a kids' TV presenter oh my god!"

Nick rolls his eyes, shaking his head and turning away to put the cakes in the over, swapping them out for the tray of oatmeal cookies that had been inside. By the time Jeff's calmed down and is wiping his eyes Nick's setting the plate of still warm cookies down on the coffee table next to the first plate.

"More coffee?" Nick asks, already picking up Jeff's mug. "Or tea?"

"Um, tea would be nice, yeah." Jeff says, smiling hopefully at Nick.

"Yes, take a cookie." Nick laughs, going back to the kitchen with Jeff's mug. Jeff smiles wide, grabbing an oatmeal cookie and breaking it in half, humming softly at the feel of it crumbling a little under his fingers. He takes a bite, sighing and leaning back into the sofa.

"How are you not incredibly fat? How do you not make these every single day and eat them for every meal ever?"

Nick chuckles, busy in the kitchen with the kettle. Jeff turns his head to look, his cheek resting on the soft fabric of the sofa. Jeff really likes how the ties of the apron make Nick's waist look. Likes how his shirt is taught across his back, the dusty grey material lifting up a little, revealing the smooth skin at the small of Nick's back as Nick reaches up for a fresh mug. Jeff sighs around the cookie in his mouth. Jeff doesn't want to be friends, he thinks, he wants to be boyfriends. He wants to be able to walk over and drape himself over Nick's back and kiss his neck and feed him cookies until neither of them can move they're so full. His heart aches a little in his chest. No, Jeff reminds himself, he and Nick are friends and nothing more. Just friends. Nick sets the two mugs of tea down carefully on the table and settles himself on the sofa next to Jeff. Their legs are pressed together and Jeff has to repress the urge to wrap his ankle around Nick's.

"I'm glad you like the cookies." Nick says, "Just wait until you try the cake."

"Seriously, how do you not eat these all the time?"

"Self control, mostly... and not baking very often." Nick laughs, taking his tea and blowing over the top of it before taking a sip.

Self control. Jeff's not exactly excelling in self control right now. He leans forward to pick up his tea, using it as an excuse to press a little closer to Nick. There's a hole in Nick's sock and Jeff can see that his toenail is painted a bright pink. He blinks in surprise, sitting back and looking at Nick with raised eyebrows.

"What?" Nick asks, about to take a bite of cookie. "Do I have batter on my face?"

"You have pink toenails..." Jeff says. "Your toenails are pink..."

"I..." Nick looks down at his feet, and then starts to laugh. "Cally's littlies painted them last time I babysat and it hasn't come off yet... I don't have nailpolish remover so it tends to just... stay until it grows off..." He smiles at Jeff. "Oh! Cally's my sister, she has two kids. Who like to play salon."

Jeff laughs softly into his cup. "Is Cally the one who gave you the apron?"

"Jessie gave me the apron, she's one up from me. Then Cally, then Sophie, then Nell, and then Leah is the oldest of us all."

Jeff sips his tea, smiling. "And then little Nick?"

"And then little me." Nick laughs, looking up as the timer on the oven starts to beep. "Mm, cake time. You are going to absolutely love these."

Nick sets his tea down, still laughing, and pats Jeff's knee before standing up and going over to the kitchen. Jeff watches him slip on his oven mitts and take out the tray of cakes. He sets them down and stabs them all over with a skewer before pouring some sort of liquid over them. Jeff sits up a little taller to watch.

"What's that?" He asks. "The stuff that you just poured?"

Nick just grins and picks a cake out of the tray. "That, my friend, is my secret surprise." He picks out another one and places them neatly on a plate. "You'll have to try it and see." Nick comes back to him and sits back down where he had been before, his leg pressing once again Jeff's. He takes a cake and peels down the wrapper before holding it out to Jeff's mouth. Jeff blinks in surprise and then leans in to take a big bite, his hand coming up to cup Nick's. Jeff's mouth is suddenly filled with the strong, tart and somehow sweet taste of lemon. He chews, his eyes wide at Nick.

" ohmygod!" he mumbles through his mouthful.

Nick laughs delightedly. "Right! Lemon drizzle cakes. It's my mom's recipe. She normally makes it as a loaf cake but I like to make them as little cakes. You get more of the lemony drizzle part." Nick grins, eating half of his cake in one bite.

Jeff chews happily, finishing his mouthful and taking a little bite of the rest of his cake. He wants to savour it, savour the delicious taste in his mouth. This is eight million times better than the cookies. He could eat so many of these. Maybe he'll ask Nick for the recipe. Or for some to take back to Dalton to share with Trent. Oh god, Trent would just love these.

"What about you, Jeff? Any siblings?" Nick asks, tea in one hand and cake in the other.

"Uh, no, just me." Jeff shrugs. "My friends are my family, the warblers are like my brothers and so are the rest of my friends." He says.

"Like me?" Nick says.

"Yeah, yeah." Jeff nods, internally kicking himself. Yes, call Nick your brother, Jeff thinks, now he'll _definitely_ want to date you. He takes pleasure in Nick's little smile though, and pushes the rest of his cake into his mouth.

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly, in a haze of sticky buns and endless cups of tea. Jeff plods along the pavement toward Dalton with a tin of cakes and cookies in his arms. Trent's just going to explode when he taste these, Jeff thinks. He'll bring the tin back tomorrow, he thinks, they'll have definitely eaten all of the treats by then.

* * *

Jeff turns the handle and walks straight into the door. He takes a step back, frowning, and glances at the sign behind the glass. Much to his surprise, it reads 'Closed'. Jeff checks the time on his watch, and then on his phone. Jeff frowns deeper.

To: Nick  
_You haven't opened up, is everything okay? X_

Jeff bites his lip, peeking through into the dark shop. Nothing looks out of place, so there probably wasn't a break in... Oh god, Jeff thinks, what if someone died and Nick had to rush away. What if _Nick_ died? Jeff pulls out his phone again.

To: Nick  
_Please say you're not dead. X_

Jeff waits outside for just a few minutes more before his phone buzzes.

From: Nick  
_Not dead, just feel it. I'll be right down x_

Jeff pushes his phone back in his pocket and looks through the door again. Nick pushes through the bead curtain and comes over to let Jeff in, smiling. Jeff steps in and Nick closes the door behind him.

"Want me to flip the sign?" Jeff asks. Jeff likes flipping the sign.

"Just leave it..." Nick mumbles, rubbing his eyes "I'm not exactly ready for customers..." He gestures at himself, and Jeff takes the opportunity to look him up and down. He's still in pyjamas, or at least, Jeff thinks he is.

"Your shirt's on backwards." Jeff blurts out.

Nick looks down at himself again. "Oh... Well that's okay..." Nick says, making his way over to the counter and sitting down behind it.

"Is everything okay, Nick?" Jeff asks, "I mean... You're kinda walking weird..."

Nick turns pink. "Musta slept funny." He smiles at Jeff as Jeff sits down. "I... Didn't get much sleep. Hence the late start."

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Jeff bites his lip, opening his mouth to start talking again and stopping in surprise. A man in a pair of boxers so tight Jeff actually blushes pushes his way through the bead curtain and drapes himself over Nick's shoulders. Jeff watches as his hand slides down Nick's chest.

"You certainly lived up to your name last night, Cummings..." He says, kissing Nick's neck. Nick shifts and clears his throat, and the man looks up, meeting Jeff's gaze. "Who's the kid?" He asks.

"Um, Ti, this is Jeff..." Nick trails off, gazing at Jeff with wide eyes.

"Bishop." Jeff supplies.

"Jeff Bishop." Nick finishes, "Jeff, this is Sebastian Smythe."

"_That_ is Jeff?" Sebastian says, straightening up. He looks down at Nick, smirking "_The_ Jeff?"

Jeff feels sick. Horribly horribly sick. Nick mentioned him to that guy. That very fit, good looking guy. The very fit, good looking guy who's now staring at him.

"Well aren't you bleachy keen..." Sebastian grins, his hand still resting on Nick's shoulder. "I've heard so much about you."

Jeff looks from Nick to Sebastian and back before standing up. "I should go. I'm sorry I disturbed you..." Jeff says hurriedly, tugging the tin out of his bag and setting on the counter before hurrying out of the door. Behind him, he hears Nick call his name and Sebastian laughing but he doesn't stop walking until he's halfway back to Dalton.

Jeff pulls his phone out and sends a text to Trent.

To: Trent  
_There was an almost naked friend of Nick's at the shop. I ran off. Help!__  
_  
From: Trent  
_Was this naked friend a guy? Was he hot?_

Jeff huffs in frustration and is just about to text back when his phone rings in his hand.

"Yes, _he_ was very good looking which is what worries me! I mean, if Nick can get guys like that what on earth makes me think he might like me even though Mr Smarmy did say that he'd heard of me which means Nick must like me, right? Unless Nick just mentioned me in an 'Oh yeah I have this stalker and his name is Jeff and one time he kissed me without asking me' and then they had a good fucking laugh about it and then... Oh my god, Trent, they must have... Nick was walking funny and oh my god Mr Smarmy and Nick had sex!"

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"I was actually just calling to see where you were because I thought we were going to practice track today but clearly you were very busy with some men having sex?" Wes says, his amusement audible. Jeff freezes. Actually stops walking and just stands in the middle of the pavement. "Hello?"

"I... I thought you were Trent..."

"Obviously." Wes laughs. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Jeff sighs and starts walking again. "Will you buy me a coffee? I really need a coffee right now..."

"I'll meet you in the cafeteria." Wes says, "Black with three sugars?"

"Five."

"Oh god, you really are having a bad morning. Hurry back."

* * *

Wes is sitting in the cafeteria as promised, two mugs of coffee and a pile of sugar packets on the table in front of him. Jeff sits down and pulls the mug close.

"Is there sugar in this already?"

"Uh huh, those are there just in case." Wes sips his coffee. "So... Mr Smarmy Pants and Nick slept together?"

Jeff blushes, taking a long gulp of his coffee. "Um... yeah?"

"Tell me something, Jeff. Now, I know who Nick is, vaguely, but... who exactly is Mr Smarmy Pants?

"That's exactly what I'd like to know." Trent says, walking up behind Jeff and moving around to sit next to Wes. "Wes told me you'd be here." Trent says, sipping his coffee. Jeff drops his head onto the table with a thump.

"Sebastian Smythe." Jeff mumbles at the table. "From the photo. Timon."

Trent gasps and Wes just looks more confused that he had before.

"Why was he there?" Trent asks, leaning in.

"They slept together. They totally did it." Jeff sighs. "Nick doesn't want me. He just sees me as a friend. Some dumb kid who hangs around him."

"He doesn't think that, Jeff!" Trent says, putting his hand on Jeff's. "He gave you all those treats, he wouldn't do that if he thought you were a dumb kid!"

"He gave me cakes and then went and fucked that guy!"

"I still have no idea what's going on but I agree with Trent, Jeff. You're not a dumb kid."

"He's twenty-seven. Why would he wanna date me? He can sleep with hot men, why would he want to sleep with me, some little boy who's barely even kissed anyone?"

"But he did kiss you!" Trent squeezes Jeff's hand reassuringly. "It'll be okay. It will."

"Put him out of your mind." Wes says, standing up as the bell rings. "You'll have to. Mr Glass'll have your head if you don't pay attention during math."

* * *

Jeff flops on his bed that evening and buries his head under the pillows. He'd gotten seven texts and five calls from Nick during the day, all of which he'd ignored. He doesn't even know why he's pissed off, it's not like him and Nick are even dating. Nick didn't cheat on him. His phone vibrates again in his pocket and he pulls it out, gazing at the screen.

From: Nick  
_Please call me, Jeff? X_

Jeff sighs. He wants to but he doesn't want to. He rolls over onto his back and presses call on the screen. The phone's barely rung once before Nick answers.

"Jeff, I am so so sorry about this morning, I really am. Ti was only meant to be staying the night, I never planned to..."

"I don't really wanna hear about what you two did." Jeff says quietly. There's a pause at the other end of the line and Jeff worries for a moment that he's gone too far, that Nick might have suddenly realised how Jeff feels and although Jeff wants him to know, he only wants him to know if Nick feels the same way. Not if Nick wants to be with 'Ti'. Not that it sounds like Nick does want to be with Ti.

"Sorry." Nick says, "It can't be fun seeing that that early in the morning. I just wanted... I wanted to make sure we were okay, you and me. Still friends. Ti was rude to you and just... he's an ass, okay? An ass."

Jeff chews his lip. "We're still friends." He says, "But I'm not friends with him."

"No, you're not." Nick laughs softly, and Jeff smiles. "Thank you for... bringing the tin back for me. I, um, I actually had something I was going to ask you today..."

Oh my god, thinks Jeff, he's going to ask me out. He's going to ask me to go out with him somewhere. On a date. Oh my god.

"You did?" Jeff says, trying not to sound too excited.

"Yeah, Kurt and Blaine and I are going for dinner on Friday night and Kurt wanted to know if you'd babysit? They'd pay you and it'd be at my place, and if we get back late you can crash at mine and go back to Dalton the next day?"

Oh.

"Uh, yeah, that sounds good, yeah." Jeff stammers. "What time?"

"About seven, if that's okay?" Nick asks.

"Yeah, I'll be there. See you then." Jeff says, hanging up quickly before he says anything else. Nick wasn't asking him out. He was asking him over to babysit. He sighs. At least he'll get paid, he thinks. Money to spend in Nick's shop.

* * *

The days before Friday somehow pass both too slowly and too quickly for Jeff's liking. Much as he looks forward to seeing Nick again – and despite the lingering resentment toward him for (probably) sleeping with Sebastian, he does look forward to seeing Nick – he also really doesn't want to spend time with Nick because all he'll be able to think about is Sebastian. He walks slowly to Nick's through the light drizzle that gradually dampens his hair and seeps through his clothes. Last time he went to Nick's in the rain he at least got a sort-of kiss. A sort-of kiss that Jeff has now decided Nick definitely reciprocated. He needs something to keep him going.

Jeff walks up toward Nick's shop just as Kurt and Blaine get out of a cab. Kurt sees him and waves, and Jeff approaches them, smiling.

"Do you want some help?" He asks.

Kurt smiles gratefully and passes him their umbrella before turning and helping Blaine get the baby bag and the baby herself out of the cab. Jeff leans forward to keep them out of the rain. They pay the cab driver and then the three of them hurry over to the shop door. Nick appears quickly to let them in and Jeff's heart almost stops when he sees him. Kurt and Blaine move through into the living room but Jeff hangs back, gazing at Nick. He's wearing a suit. A very well fitted, expensive looking suit that makes his waist look amazing and his hair's brushed back and...

"You look like a secret agent..." Jeff breathes, and then blushes hard. Nick smiles, pleased, his cheeks also pink with a blush.

"The name's Cummings. Nick Cummings." He laughs.

Jeff rolls his eyes. "So predictable." He smiles. Nick turns and heads into the living room, and Jeff follows, trying hard not to stare so obviously at his ass. He's relieved, he thinks, that Nick's acting like they're okay. They are okay. They're friends. Just friends. Jeff smiles through Kurt's explanation of what to do if Lily's diaper needs changing – change it – and dutifully takes down Kurt and Blaine's numbers into his phone in case there's an emergency, as well as the number of the restaurant they're going to.

"We'll probably call to make sure everything's okay at some point during the evening," Blaine says to Jeff as Kurt takes Lily upstairs to settle her down in the travel cot they'd brought with them, "but I'm sure it will be. She usually sleeps through the night now." Kurt comes back down the stairs, smiling.

"Okay, she's down and sleeping." He says, wincing as a car honks loudly outside. "Hopefully still sleeping..."

"That's our cab, guys." Nick says, tugging on a coat that just makes him look even more handsome. "We shouldn't be back too late, Jeff, help yourself to tea or whatever. There're some cakes in the fridge." He grins. "Lemon ones." And then the three of them are out of the door and Jeff's alone in the shop with a baby.

Jeff sits down on the sofa and takes his shoes off. He sets them to the side and leans back on the soft cushions. He can't hear anything but his own breathing and distant traffic. It's nice. This time of night at Dalton people are walking up and down corridors and talking and singing and running and Jeff loves it but it's nice to have the quiet sometimes. He considers watching TV but he's scared of waking the baby. How good is a baby's hearing, anyway? He wonders if he should have told Kurt and Blaine that he's never looked after a baby before, but he figures it can't be that hard.

Jeff stands and pads into the kitchen to get a glass of water before wandering back out and over to the bookshelf to look at the pictures again. There's Blaine and Nick outside the shop, little Nick on his first day at Dalton. Jeff picks it up and studies it. He realises with a jolt that he might not even have been born when this was taken. He sets it back on the shelf hurriedly. He sips his water and moves along the shelf, trying not to knock over any book piles. How Nick navigates this every day is a mystery. Although it does look neater than the first time he was here. Jeff glances at his watch and sighs. 7:30pm. They'll be gone another two hours at the very least. He pulls a book off the shelf and random and goes back to the sofa. Jeff sets his glass down carefully on the floor and sprawls out, propping his head up with a few cushions and pulling the knitted blanket over his lap. He rests the book on his knees and starts to read.

As it turns out, the book – the third volume of the Scott Pilgrim comics – entertains him for an hour or so before he finishes it. Then Jeff leans his head back on the cushions and looks up at the ceiling. It's even quieter now. This part of town has no restaurants or clubs, nothing but shops, and they're all shut this time of day. Jeff stands and walks carefully out into the shop with his glass of water. He ambles over to the front window and looks out. It's eerie being here in the semi-darkness. It's still pretty light outside, Jeff thinks, summer's on its way. He smiles. Summer. Nick in shorts more. He likes Nick in shorts. Oh, but oh, that suit. Jeff smiles to himself, wandering around the shop. Nick's always so casual, he'd never even stopped to imagine him in a suit before. He definitely will now. Upstairs, the baby starts to cry.

Jeff turns and hurries back through the living room, putting his glass down as he goes, and up the stairs to Nick's room. Lily's still crying, kicking her little legs in the air. Jeff looks down at her in the crib, trying to remember if Kurt or Blaine said anything about leaving her to cry. Sometimes parents do that. They did it in Modern Family. Oh good, now Jeff's imagining Kurt and Blaine as Cameron and Mitchell. Their baby even has the right name. Oh, yeah, baby. Crying baby. Okay.

Jeff leans down and scoops her up into his arms, holding her a little awkwardly. She doesn't feel wet and she isn't stinky, so she doesn't need her diaper changing. What else do babies do? Oh, food. Maybe she's hungry, Jeff thinks. He sets her down in the crib and goes to the baby bag, getting out a bottle. There's a note on how to heat it taped to it and Jeff rushes downstairs. When the milk's warm enough he runs back up. Lily's still crying. Oh god, Jeff thinks as he picks her up again and sits down with her on the bed, what if she's sick or something? He presses the bottle teat gently to her mouth and sighs in relief as she starts sucking. As she drinks, she gazes up at him with big brown eyes. Oh wow, Jeff thinks, she looks so much like Blaine. He'd never really looked at her before. Jeff smiles. She's cute. Babies are cute. Babies are really cute. He pulls the bottle away slowly when it's empty, and for a moment, there's silence. And then Lily starts to cry again.

Babies are so not cute at all.

Jeff cradles Lily in his arms and rocks her gently. It doesn't work. He stands and starts to pace Nick's bedroom, bouncing her a little. It doesn't work. Jeff shifts her so that he's holding her against his chest and rubs her back gently, hoping that she doesn't spit up on him. She doesn't. But she does quieten down and stop crying. Jeff smiles and goes over to the crib, but the moment he starts to lower her back toward it she starts crying again. So Jeff holds her to his chest again and sits back down on Nick's bed. As he rub's Lily's back, he gradually lays himself down and shifts her down onto him properly. She's asleep, Jeff thinks. He did it. He got a baby back to sleep. He smiles up at the ceiling. There's a heart there. A little heart, drawn on the ceiling in black above the bed. It wasn't there when he was here before. Jeff closes his eyes. He'll just chill here, he thinks, until he's sure Lily's asleep enough to get her back in the crib.

Jeff blinks awake to Kurt, Blaine, and Nick all taking photos of him with their phones. He murmurs sleepily and it takes him a moment or two to remember where he is and why there's a baby on his chest. He must have fallen asleep, he thinks. Kurt smiles at him and leans forward to take Lily off him and put her carefully into her car seat. The travel crib's already packed up, and so is the baby bag. Jeff sits up, still a little disorientated from his nap.

"Thank you so much." Kurt says softly, still smiling at him.

"S'okay." Jeff shrugs, following them as they all traipse down the narrow stairs in a line. "She woke up and I fed her, I hope that's okay?"

Kurt nods, rolling his eyes as Blaine fumbles with the baby bag. "I'm no-drinking Daddy tonight. Blaine had some wine." He laughs softly.

"Only a couple of glasses." Blaine retorts, but he's smiling too. "Oh, let me pay you before I forget!"

"I'll see you in the cab, okay? Thanks again, Jeff." Kurt says with a little wave to Jeff before carrying Lily out into the shop.

Blaine pulls out his wallet and counts $30 out into Jeff's hand. Jeff blinks. "Are you sure?" He says, "That... seems like a lot?"

Blaine shakes his head and smiles. "You did a good job." He says firmly. "Thank you. I better go. See you around, Jeff."

"I'll see you guys off." Nick says, and then turns to Jeff. "We'll make up a bed on the couch when I get back, if that's okay? Or you can probably get a lift back in the cab to Dalton if you want?"

"I'll stay!" Jeff says, before calming himself down. "I mean... it's probably easier if I stay..."

Nick grins and guides Blaine out into the shop, leaving Jeff alone again. Jeff bends to get his wallet out of his bag and puts the money away. He's just putting it down again when he notices Nick's notebook sticking out from under the couch. He should pick that up, Jeff thinks, what if Nick thinks he's lost it or something. He'd definitely be upset. Jeff glances toward the shop and picks it up, letting it fall open to the most recent poem.

_It's for warmth._

_I tell myself_

_It's for warmth._

_How I wrap my arms_

_around myself_

_and pretend that they're you._

_It's comfortable._

_It's comforting._

_It's comfort._

_My fingers brush_

_my sides_

_and it's you_

_and it's okay to be crying_

_Sometimes_

_tears_

_fall_

_and_

_you_

_wipe_

_them_

_away_

_but it's not you_

_it's my imagination_

_and I fall asleep_

_alone._

"That's private."

Jeff wheels round, the notebook still in his hands, staring down at Nick. His heart pounds horribly in his chest and the thump that was already in his throat feels big enough to choke him.

"How much have you read?" Nick asks in a cool, calm voice that does nothing to dissipate Jeff's feelings that something awful is about to happen.

"This one.'" Liar. _Liar_. "Some others. This one" Jeff stutters.

Nick runs his gaze down Jeff's body and up again and for a moment Jeff thinks he's sizing him up, getting ready to hit. Instead, Nick looks him in the eye.

"It's about you."


End file.
